No Time To Say Goodbye

This has been a trying week...just capped-off by two bits of really sad news.

My dear friend Kerry, who was diagnosed with Antiphospholipid Antibody Syndrome last fall after her second miscarriage, has just suffered another loss. I am so sad for her. She was following new protocol: blood thinners and IVIg treatments, and was really hopeful that this would be the one. This miscarriage was also taxing on her body. The hospital did a CAT scan because they feared she had a blood clot in her brain or spinal meningitis from the IVIg infusion. (scary!) We love you Ker, and we're praying for answers for you...soon.

Second, our dear little Rex, has been shipped-off to a farm in South Dakota. I'm still in shock. We didn't even get to say goodbye. C. and I knew that my sister and her husband were feeling a bit overwhelmed with the prospect of soon having two kids under the age of 3 along with a hyper-active doggy to care for. They mentioned they may look for a different home for Rex back in March, but we hadn't heard any more on the topic since then. I was informed of his departure via this note left in our mailbox when I came home from work today:

I was certain he had been killed. Why else would someone leave a message like this?! I frantically called my sister (no answer) my mom (no clue what the note meant) and then my BIL. He reassured me that Rex was not dead, but he went on to explain that Rex left earlier this afternoon (what?!). He said I could call and talk with sis, but she was pretty "emotional" because she's "knocked-up." Ummm...yeah...I'm holding back sobs here too buddy. We WOULD have been Rex's family. Heck, we WERE his family for a whole year while my sis and bil lived in an apartment that didn't allow pets. I want to understand. I'm trying to understand. And I'm so tired of facing loss.

So I've decided that this post is dedicated to all of those who have left our lives before we even got a chance to say goodbye.