I still don’t know—

.... and here we are again.

Navigating the heartbreaking experience of dementia.

Navigating the great end-of-life dilemma.

Hard thoughts.

Hard choices.

The inescapable closing of another chapter for me, and the entire book for another.

The inescapable experience of death. The type of permanence I dread.

And the inescapable experience of release. More loss. More grief.

With the tremendous amount of loss that's taken place over these last years, it's interesting to see how my body and my nervous system have responded.

I feel numb. 100% numb.

My nervous system is completely shot.

Navigating compounded trauma and its aftermath has been really difficult... the most difficult of my life, and also the most educational.

Over the course of the last few years, my 15 year old- my beautiful Raiyna, has lost her sight and hearing. As the most independent dog I've ever had, this has been exceptionally difficult for her. But she's persevered.

I worried about how she'd adjust to leaving our home. The home she knew every inch of. The home she could easily navigate without her senses. The home that was her safe haven (... the home that was all of ours).

I worried about her and all the change. But she kept adjusting. Kept acclimating.

While she's been able to successfully map the new layout, she's now showing strong signs of dementia.

When little Todd was moving through his experience with dementia, he didn't make a peep for the last few years of his life. Not a sound. Nothing. Like everything else he'd "forgotten" how to do (eat, drink water, walk a straight line, etc), he'd forgotten he had vocal cords and how to use them.

Raiyna is just the opposite. While she was always the strong, silent type, and would only vocalize when the pack would break out into song (or to let me know it was "about that time" for a meal or a walk. Always my daily schedule keeper. My little time warden. Even now).... if she's awake- she's wandering around aimlessly, walking into corners and not knowing how to back out, whining, and/or barking incessantly.

It's heartbreaking to watch my beloved pack members age and move through their own senior experience. And between Chip, Todd, Raiyna, and "life", I haven't had a full night's sleep in close to 4 years.

My sweet Raiyna's days are numbered. Her last pack walk was a few days ago. I started bringing her with us on the trails every other day... but I think even that is too much for her now.

.....I still don't know how to do this.

How to determine what the situation is calling for.

Whether or not I need to "step in" and "play God."

I still don't know how to say "goodbye."