Grief With a Side of Vulnerability

Our sweet Goldendoodle, Milo, recently passed away. At 13 years old, he enjoyed a full, happy life. The space by my feet where he cuddled sits empty. Both his humans and puppy buds grieve his loss (especially Custis, who is a very sensitive dog). As the “old man” of the bunch, the other dogs experience the weight of the absence of their leader, their alpha male. 

Honestly, after Stuart died, I maintained little empathy for pet loss. I became cynical, although I love my pets dearly. Nothing compared to the loss of my child, and I struggled to care about any other losses—mine or anyone else’s. This is difficult to confess, but I blocked compassion for anything other than child loss for a long time.

Recognizing this in myself, I prayed for a softened heart. While it took time, I gradually experienced the empathy returning. Our emotions are complicated at best, and in grief, they twist upon themselves. It’s hard to know which way is up. 

Ultimately, I understood that in the complexity of grief, my feelings became huge. Also, I knew I wasn’t alone. In speaking with others who had experienced trauma and loss, I found companions in my confusing emotional responses. In our losses, we had big feelings to come to terms with. Anger, desperation, sadness, frustration, loneliness, and yes, a portion of bitterness smeared in there to top it all off. 

Extreme emotions come from extreme losses.

Although it will take time, the intensity of the pain will lessen some, making survival possible. While it’s challenging to be in the middle of the suffering, we find comfort in knowing we are not alone, that our feelings are normal. Our tender hearts are resilient, even to the worst traumas.

In his tender mercy, God created His people to withstand the pain of this world while looking ahead to glory. 

“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”  (2 Corinthians 4:16–18, ESV)

There is nothing simple about grief. It is the outward expression of our inward sorrow, and it overflows from a place of deep love. While God gifted us with this ability to feel passionate about those dear to us, our inner self—our soul—reaches toward heaven to eternity. As difficult as things can be here on earth, the wonder of eternity with Him outweighs them all. Coming from a mama who buried her child, this is saying a lot.

Over time, I have noticed my dry emotional state developed in intensity, my empathy expanded, and my compassion has deepened. No longer am I flippant about telling someone I will pray for them—I do it instantly, and I take the honor to pray for others’ circumstances and pain seriously. Not that I acted without regard before, but I am more intentional now. I more intimately understand the power of prayer and our desperate need for others to join us and hold our hands, especially when the need is great. 

Grief is brutal. It arrives in various forms, such as a job or home loss, relationship loss, divorce, loss of health, and so on. Every loss requires adapting to a new situation and causes some anxiety and distress. Our burdens may appear in a myriad of ways and affect us in varying degrees, but each one needs to be acknowledged. Taking it to God, and leaving it at the cross, is the best way I know how to cope.

“… do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6–7, ESV)

In light of losing my son, nothing compares. However, the love we have for our pets is undeniable. After witnessing Stuart’s dog, Custis, grieve deeply for him, I better understand the connection we all have with our beloved animals and theirs with us. Losing Milo is a reminder to me of our pet’s unconditional love for us. They deserve recognition throughout their lives and in our mourning of their loss. 

Have you lost a beloved pet?