Moving forward without forgetting.

After losing Mylo, I thought a great deal about the words we use around grief. People often talk about “moving on”. I prefer to talk about moving forward, and remembering.

“Moving on” sounded like leaving him behind. Like there was a door I was supposed to walk through and close. And I didn’t want to close it. I still don’t.

Forward, not on

What I say now, to myself and to the guardians I work with, is this:

Don’t aim to forget. Aim to move forward, and remember.

It sounds like a small change of words. It isn’t. Moving on asks you to put the relationship down. Moving forward lets you carry it with you. We don’t want to be moving on and forgetting those memories; we want to be moving forward, with the animal we loved still a part of our lives, just in a different way.

Mylo is still part of mine. I believe he’s still with me in spirit, and I believe he still guides me, but even if you don’t share that belief, the principle holds. The years you had, the funny things they did, the way they looked at you: none of that has to be given up to make room for life going on.

Small things that have helped

I want to be careful here. Grief is so individual, and I’d never tell anyone what they should do with theirs. These are simply some things that have helped me, and some of the guardians I’ve sat with. Take what’s useful and leave the rest.

A memory box. Somewhere to keep the collar, the tag, a favourite toy, the card from the vet. Not hidden away in a drawer, but not on display either if that’s too much right now. Somewhere you can go to, when you want to.

Keeping something out. Some people leave a lead by the door for a long while. Some can’t bear to. Both are fine. There isn’t a right answer, only yours.

Telling the stories. Out loud, to someone who’ll listen properly. The daft things. The little habits that made them who they were. Laughing about them is allowed. It doesn’t mean you miss them any less.

Finding your people. Not everyone will understand how much this loss means. Find the one or two who do, and let the rest be.

Looking after yourself. Grief is tiring. Sleep, food and fresh air aren’t a cure, but they make the carrying easier.

Letting it take the time it takes. There is no timetable. If it’s been years and something still catches you, that isn’t going backwards. That’s love.

If you’d like someone to talk to

Sometimes the kindest thing you can do is say all of this out loud to someone who understands the bond, and who won’t rush you. That’s what my Pet Bereavement Counselling is for. It starts with a free twenty-minute phone call, and there’s no obligation to go any further.

And if you’re simply reading this because you lost someone who mattered, and you wanted to know that somebody understands: I do. My heart goes out to you.