Remembering Benji...

A little over a month ago, I lost my dog, Benji. He was a wonderful dog and companion to have around. His untimely death happened suddenly and I would have never thought that I would lose him during this year.

His passing is something that I still find myself struggling with, but I am feeling much better than I was a month ago. Looking back at that event, I remember that prior to his death, my family and I were just conversing about how we believed that Benji would surely have about 5-6 more years in his lifespan.

Oh, how wrong we were. None of us would have expected that Benji would be hit by a car the very next week after that conversation.

I was crushed when I heard the news and I immediately went home to see him. Benji's death brought my immediate family together on that Monday evening, away from our jobs, our school, our normal, everyday life.

He was more than just a pet to us, he was a member of our family. Although the news of his death wasn't what any of us were expecting, we all were able to spend a little time together and share our favorite memories that we have of Benji.

One thing I will certainly miss about Benji is just the fact that he would love to follow me around the house. I often felt like I had a little sidekick. I could look down and he was almost always near me, rubbing his furry back against my leg and foot.

I especially remember the moments when I would receive good news, but have no one to express my excitement to in the moment, except for Benji, who was always there. I would shout with joy and Benji would bark with me, as if he was shouting and celebrating too.

The most recent memory of that type in particular is when I learned that I had finally been offered my first teaching job. I was so full of excitement and anticipation, I could hardly hold my happiness in. Benji always seemed to know when I was happy and he would share that moment with me.

I think the most important thing about this experience, though, is just understanding that the things we say, even when we don't mean much of it, hold value. Sometimes that value may be so much that we can't afford to even say it. In this case, it was.

We didn't know that God was going to decide that it was Benji's time to go. Therefore, speaking on his life was something we couldn't afford to do, let alone shouldn't have.

No one's life is a life that should be taken for granted. So when we speak of one's life, it should only be about the abundance of it, not the lack thereof.

I intended on creating this post around the time when all of this was happening, but I could not bare myself to write with my emotions being so overwhelmingly strong. It was also directly during the week of STAAR testing at my school. I had to be there for my students and encourage them as they were preparing to take their first state-mandated test.

I am glad that it is the summer time now. I can finally get back to writing consistently. The goal is to maintain a good routine even while I teach during the school year.

This is a rather short post, though. I don't have much else to say about Benji, the power of the tongue, or even school.

Until next time.

Jefferson K. Coe