This week was rough.
There’s no other way of putting that, and I’ve been out of sorts.
All inside out and back to front and somewhere between Zac’s anxiety and the news on Sunday, Molly happened.
Not so much awkward, as just plain rubbish.
I’d had a pretty average expo on Saturday, but was optimistic heading in to work on Sunday that I was going to turn it around, and then I got a missed call from Mum.
I thought it was odd, it seemed like it should be the wrong time, but the clocks were changing, or had changed, so I reasoned it couldn’t be that late.
I called her from my desk and something about the way she said hello.
I knew this was a private call.
I went in to the back and listened while Mum apologise, while she told me they’d had a call from from home and…I didn’t need to hear any more.
I was already crying.
We weren’t close.
At least not since Grandad died.
But the news that Granny had passed away still hit in a crushing wave of grief.
My last grandparent.
And suddenly I was too far.
I hadn’t tried hard enough, I’d been too busy, too flippant, too selfish. I’d not wanted to deal with a grandparent who couldn’t even remember who I was now or who I was when she thought I was someone else, and who that someone else is.
I’d callously said time and time again, she was dead to me, but now she actually was and I couldn’t stop crying.
I awkwardly made my excuses and left work.
Zac just missed me.
He came in to the store, bottle of Canadian Club in hand and proudly plonked it on the desk for Ant as a housewarming present.
Looking around he jovially asked where I’d gone.
“You…you’ve not spoken to Becky, have you? You need to find her.”
I was on a bench somewhere in Knox when I felt an arm around me and sank into Zac’s chest.
I just didn’t know how to feel.
I was grieving, but for more than just a Grandparent. There was so much that had happened in the past year, so much that was going to happen next year. Milestones that I never thought I’d make, but always took for granted I’d have my whole family there to share it and I just felt so. far. away.
I took the start of the week off.
Tarryn was having a few days off, just feeling a little run down and Zac was going through the same miserable morning routine.
Struggling to get out of mind.
Slumping around the flat getting ready, or just sitting on the end of the bed, completely despondent.
Coming home and taking his frustration out on me.
Go to bet, set the alarm and wait for it all to start again tomorrow.
I couldn’t bare it any more.
I was feeling miserable and I started doing some research.
I texted Tarryn.
BK: Ok, you need to come round and keep me company and distract me or something, because I’m legit about 5 minutes away from buying a puppy.
BK: This is not a drill.
BK: I can’t buy a puppy can I?
BK: Can I?
TH: I’m coming.
I don’t think I’ve ever heard her move so fast, sick or not, and suddenly there was a pyjama-ed neighbour and a white puppy in the kitchen.
Within half an hour we were both dressed and heading out to find a puppy.
We were en route to the RSPCA when I asked if we could duck via Pets at Chadstone. Zac and I always used to go and hold the puppies there on our lunch break. We’d wander past and look at the fur babies in the window if we were feeling sad, and we got very close to buying one before I left for England in the vain hopes it would help a visa application.
Walking in I was adamant I wasn’t going to buy a puppy from a pet shop.
And then I met Molly.
We got her and her brother out to have a play with and she had such a wonderful nature. She was interested and inquisitive, but she was gentle.
She wanted to cuddle, she was soft and funny, but the second she had the chance she was trying to get out to play.
She had a personality.
And I was in love.
3 hours later and we were driving back home with a little bundle of fur in my arms.
As yet unnamed, panicking about what Zac was going to say, and how I was going to tell him.
I adulted exceptionally well this week.
I think that’s a responsible reaction to grief.
But as far as Molly goes: we couldn’t be happier.