Dina S.

Four months today.

One hundred and twenty days since you left my side and crossed the Rainbow Bridge. Sometimes it feels like you were just here yesterday, and other times it feels like an eternity since I last felt the warmth of your fur or looked into your sweet eyes.

The sharp, stinging pain from the beginning has settled into a quiet, heavy ache. I am learning how to carry your absence, but please never think that means I am forgetting.

Today, I find myself remembering:

The unique comfort of your presence when the world got too loud.

The way you could turn an ordinary day into a good one just by being yourself.

The absolute certainty that we belonged together.

I miss you just as fiercely today as I did four months ago. I hope you are running fast, resting deeply, and that somehow, wherever you are, you can feel the love I send up to you every single day.

You left paw prints on my soul, Kano, and those will never fade.

Forever missing you,

Tomorrow marks three months.

Twelve weeks have passed since you headed toward the Rainbow Bridge, and yet I still find myself reaching for you. They say that grief is just love with no place to go, and lately, I feel like I’m overflowing with it.

I’ve lived through ninety days of "firsts" without you, and none of them have been easy. I still catch myself checking the floor before I step, or glancing at the door when I come home, hoping—just for a heartbeat—that this was all a dream and you’ll be there to greet me.

What I want you to know today:

• You are still a part of my day. I talk to you in my head, and I see "signs" of you in the small things.

• The bond hasn't faded. Even though I can’t pet your head or hear your breath, the connection we built over the years feels just as strong.

• I am trying. I am trying to smile at your photos instead of only crying, though some days the tears still win.

I hope you’re finding the best nap spots up there and that you can feel every ounce of the love I’m sending your way. You were my best friend, my shadow, and my heart. That will never change, no matter how many months go by.

Two months. They say time is supposed to make things easier, but today, eight weeks since you crossed the Rainbow Bridge, the silence in the house still feels just as loud. I look for you in all your favorite corners, and for a split second, I still expect to hear the sound of your paws or the shift of your weight against the floor.

My heart is just as heavy today as it was the moment you left. I think it’s because I’m still carrying all the love I have for you with nowhere for it to go.

I miss the little things the most:

• The way you knew exactly how I was feeling without me saying a word.

• The specific routine of our mornings together.

• The pure, uncomplicated joy you brought into every room.

I hope where you are now, the sun is always warm, the grass is soft, and you are running with the kind of freedom you deserve. Please keep a spot saved for me. I’m trying my best to be okay, but please know that you are missed beyond measure and loved beyond words.

Until we meet again, sweet boy.

Always,

It is Day 5. I’m still here, and I know you are too, just in a different way.

I spent yesterday asking so many "Whys." I was trying to figure out how I missed the fluid, why the check-ups didn't catch it, and if I was wrong to let you go at 1:15 PM. But as the sun comes up on Day 5, I’m trying to listen to what the doctor and my heart told me: I chose your peace over my own. I took the pain so you didn't have to drown.

The house is quiet, but it’s not empty. Casper and Cubby are stepping up. They are learning how to fill the space you left behind. I’m waiting for your pillow and your poster to arrive so I can have a place to put all this love that has nowhere to go.

I miss your face. I miss the way you just "knew" me. But today, I’m going to try to be the person you’d want me to be. I’m going to try to breathe through the "lemon" in my throat and take care of the boys.

I wonder what you are doing; I miss you. I took off work today because I cannot focus on anything else besides you. My heart aches— I find myself looking for you in every corner. The house is awfully quiet, although Casper and Cubby has been so great to me and the girls.

Last night, Cubby stayed with me all night and it was so helpful to me. He was able to calm my nervous system. And I was able to fall asleep. Casper was at the door this morning with Cubby. That made me smile. They are really stepping up—did you tell them to take care of me?

I didn’t cry today but I felt sadness throughout my body. I went to therapy yesterday, it was a first time and she help me get through it. She validated my feelings, and my hurt of losing you is real. I hope you’re okay, my beautiful boy. 🥺

I keep going back to trying to find things that makes sense. I’m just so broken without you here. The boys have been alternating between the girls and I. Healing each of us the best way they know how.

I hope I am able to work tomorrow. I would like to focus on work and get through the day. It’s so strange when I look up you are not here with me while I am working. 🫩 I need to be careful, my 90 days probation isn’t up yet. They have been so understanding.

I hope you know how much you meant to us. We are so broken. Sleep well. 💔

I will write you tomorrow.

Best friend,

Kano, I’m still here. I took the afternoon off because the world felt too loud and the house felt too quiet without you at the door. I spent today leaning into the "hurt" instead of running from it.

I went to therapy today, Sweet Boy. I had to tell a stranger how much you meant to me because the weight of losing my twin was more than I could carry alone. It helped. It’s a slow process, but I’m doing it for us. I want to be the version of myself that you loved so much—the mom who is strong, but also kind enough to admit when she’s broken.

I made some things for you today, too. I ordered a pillow with your face on it so I can still hold you when the bed feels too big. And I’m getting a poster of you with me & the boys.

The "lemon" is still in my throat, and the house still feels like it’s missing its heartbeat, but I’m breathing. The boys is on the bed with me right now, holding down your spot, making sure I don’t feel alone.

I love you, Kano. I hope you can see the posters and the pillows and know that you aren't just "gone"—you are woven into the very walls of this home.

Always,

I’m writing this because I just need to say it: I miss you so much today.

It’s one of those days where the silence feels a little too loud and the space you usually fill feels completely empty. I’m carrying everything we’ve shared—all the memories and the parts of me that you’ve shaped—but right now, the distance just feels heavy.

I’m trying to be okay, and I’m trying to move through the day like I always do, but my heart keeps wandering back to you. I miss your presence, I miss our rhythm, and I just miss us.

Even though it hurts to miss you this much, I’d rather feel this ache than not have known you at all. You’re with me, even when you aren’t here.

Dear Kano,

I’m “at work” today, but it’s not the same. My desk feels miles wide without you sitting nearby. I find myself looking at your favorite spots while I’m on calls, half-expecting to see your ears twitch or feel you brush against my leg.

I’m trying to do the chores—the laundry, the dishes—but every little task feels like a reminder that the house has shifted. It’s too quiet here. I haven't even wanted to eat; my stomach is in knots just missing you.

Casper and Cubby are here, but you are missing from the line-up. I'm trying to hold it together for them, but some moments, the silence is just too loud.

I’m going to try to eat one small thing today, just because I know you’d want me to be strong for the boys. Stay close to me this afternoon. The girls misses you so much.

Today is our first day without you, and it feels unbearable. I woke up and opened my door, expecting to see you waiting for me… and you weren’t there. That moment broke something in me. I miss you so much. I needed you more than you ever needed me.

I washed my face and walked to the kitchen, and you weren’t following behind me like always. What am I supposed to do without you? Today I screamed in agony. I cried until it hurt. My heart feels empty, but at least you’re no longer suffering, my sweet boy. I hope you knew—really knew—how deeply I loved you.

1,095 days will never be enough. You were my soul animal. You listened without judgment, loved without conditions, and stayed with me through my darkest moments. You were there for Natalie when she was struggling. Three years was far too short. My best friend is gone, and I don’t know how to exist in this world without you. 💔

Find me in every lifetime. Please come back to me if I’m not fast enough to find you. I cried today. I’ve been crying. I smoked just to quiet the pain, just to breathe again. I still call your name like you’re here. Rest well, my beautiful boy. 💔

Kano… 🥺