Big Men Don't Cry

So, my husband cried today.  But before I go into that, I want to talk about something I remembered because of what happened today.

Last year on the day of JJ's funeral, Jason dropped me at my friend's house to get my hair done for the funeral. He had decided not to come with me, to let me have a break with my friend.  I think his original plans were to go get a soda or something.  When he came back to get me, I opened to the door to the truck to see my husband crying.  "I had to get the truck washed. I didn't want JJ to be in a dirty truck."  (To save some money on the services, we had decided to transport JJ from the funeral home to the cemetery on our own.  For those of you who know other tales of our truck, might find that humorous- this was her second "Hearst" run.)

One thing I learned from this is that he grieves differently than I do.  I'm still in awe at the little things he does to show he's in pain- it's so different than from what I do, or how I grieve.

So, we put Tater to sleep today.  She's been in a lot of pain for a while now and starting about a month ago it's gotten even worse as she's become disagreeable and even defensive.  We finally discussed the big "d" a few weeks ago after I talked about it with my friend who works in a vet office.  She told me our options and the related costs and I told her we'd think about it seriously.  After checking with her original owners, we found out she was actually three years older than we had thought she was!  So instead of being 9, she was actually 12!  Then we knew it was time to put her to sleep.

The only remaining obstacle was the cost.  We told each other we would wait until we had the money, hopefully in a few months.  While talking about it at a family dinner last night, my mom offered to pay for it so "she wouldn't be in pain."  (And that is ironic too!  My mom, the sworn "animal hater," offers to provide for our dog what we couldn't provide ourselves.)

And it all came together so quickly.  She gave us the money.  Jason didn't have any work today.  The vet had an opening this afternoon.  Jason sent me an email at 9:45 that said the appointment was set for 2:30.  (We both knew there was no way I could handle being there and this was going to be all him.)  It knocked the breath out of me, if I didn't teach 8th graders, I might have started crying right then and there!  But school is a great grief blocker and I just pushed it out of my mind.

Then I get another email at 12:45.  "I just got Tater two cheeseburgers for lunch.  She loved it."  And I knew his grieving process had begun.  The next email came at 2:04, "And McDonalds ice cream before the vet."

So I titled this blog after the Tim McGraw song, because I am a strong believer that there is some country song out there for anything you ever have to deal with.  Society might say, "Men don't cry." But I know that my husband, one of the most manly men out there, will cry and he will cope with that emotion how he knows best- by taking care of those around him and making their moments on earth just a little bit easier.