After my dog Pasha died, four and a half years ago, I had some thoughts that helped me. The main one was a realisation that I was subconsciously thinking that she was able to suffer or feel sad about being dead. Of course, she couldn't. She was dead. Meeting that thought head-on and dispelling it was like finding a thorn or splinter and removing it - the grief was still very painful but it didn't sting so much.
I was able to use things like that this time, when Zuni died. I've been bumbling along, doing reasonably well, considering. Then I wondered where my period was. I'm pretty much clockwork but this month I was almost two weeks late. I had the bizarre thought - I really, really hope I'm not pregnant because if I am, I'll think it's Zuni being reincarnated. I mean - what? I don't believe in reincarnation, in any kind of spirit. So one interesting thing is that I have these thoughts flying under the radar that feel like they belong to another person, a person completely different to me. And then the other thing is that, while Me, the Me I'm aware of, is getting on with this, sad but coping, my body is obviously deciding to react in its own way - two week's silence.
I've also found myself remembering back. There were four and a half years when I'd lost Pasha and still had Zuni, and those years began with the empty ache over Pasha and somewhere eased into the rich, calm happiness of having Zuni and Lily. I reach back into memories of Zuni, find one and feel happy, only to realise that, at the time, I was very sad, still smarting from Pasha's death. But I think the happiness I feel did happen too. And now, while some thoughts are sad about Zuni, I know some are glad and grateful I have Lily and Paul. Maybe memories are made of strands - the different, conflicting or complementary feelings you had at the time. Depending on the strand you travel back on, you have a happy memory or a sad one, both of the same time and experience.
I've read various philosophers say that the idea of a single consciousness which is You (or Me) is an illusion. I've often felt that I am more a squabbling council. The last two weeks have made me feel that more. Different layers of me are grieving in different ways.
