A Daly-Shaped Hole

This idea comes from a Salman Rushdie book where he talks about a 'God-shaped hole' that appeared after he lost his faith. He says that when you lose someone, they leave behind a hole shaped like themselves. It's a hole that you cannot fill, because no one else will fit in it but that person that you lost.

Today, I suffer from a Daly-shaped hole.

Colin and I lost our puppy this weekend. After four years of loving him, we are having to figure out how to let him go and I have gained a new understanding of the truth in this Rushdie idea. I miss my pup. I miss his kisses and his own variety of 'hugs' and the way he would celebrate small things like new toys or tiny pieces of cheese with his whole body wriggling in excitement. And no matter how I try to comfort myself, it doesn't quite work - because what I miss, I cannot have. Because Daly, Daly is what I miss.

I've been sad the past few days because I miss my dog. I wish he could be here. But last night, I had a dream about him and I'm doing my best to let that dream make me feel better.

Normally I wouldn't tell you about a dream because I realize it seems weird and because normally I have nightmares and those aren't worth sharing. But this dream was special.

I was outside, with Colin. We were standing on one side of what seemed like a thin wall, like one of those smokey glass walls where you can mostly see what's on the other side but not quite. I was sad, thinking about Daly, and then I saw something moving on the other side of the wall. It was Daly - running around, sniffing and generally being deliriously happy about finding himself outside on a beautiful day.

And I thought to my dream-self, "Here I am, so sad, and there he is, just on the other side of the veil - so happy. How funny we humans are that we mourn what others celebrate."

Then I woke up. At 4am, I looked at the clock and sighed.

A strange dream, but it brought me comfort to think that Daly is there, just on the other side of a veil that I cannot pull back, and he is happy.

I miss him for myself. But I rejoice in the idea that he is settling in to a new home and it is sunny there and he is allowed to run and jump and play and kiss and love. And he is waiting for us.

Someday that Daly-shaped hole will be filled again. I will scratch behind his ears and lay my head aginst his back and feel whole. Today, all I can do, is look forward to that day.