Life, Loss, and Lessons Learned

Loss is a universal experience, yet it hits each of us uniquely. Some bear more pain than others, but that’s just the nature of life, isn’t it? It’s not fair, and it doesn’t choose favorites.

In a span of a few years, during my early to mid-20s, life seemed to unravel around me. I lost both my grandparents, who were my childhood pillars; my father, as much as weird our relationship was, he was constant in my life; my dog, who was more than just a pet to me; and a woman who was like a second mother to me, having cared for me in a crèche. Each loss was a blow, each goodbye a tear in the fabric of my being. Strangely, it was the loss of my dog that hit me the hardest. I cried the most for him, and in some bizarre, inexplicable way, I loved him the most. I would’ve traded anything, even my own soul, to have him back. He was everything to me.

My dog wasn’t just a pet; he was my confidant, my shadow, my unwavering source of joy. We shared a bond that went beyond words, a connection that was pure and uncomplicated. He greeted me with the same enthusiasm whether I was gone for five minutes or five hours. The unconditional love and loyalty he offered were unmatched. Losing him felt like losing a piece of my soul. I remember the quietness of the house in his absence, the way every corner seemed to echo with the memory of his presence. There’s a unique pain in losing a pet — they become a part of your daily routine…