Grief. Sadness. Loss.

It is with extreme sadness that I type this post. Our beloved four-legged member of our family for the past two years has died. Buddy, our 4, 5, 8 or 9 year old stray (no vet could tell us how old he was) that my wife and kids rescued from Beach Boulevard two years ago in October has died of unknown causes. And my heart hurts.

I don't like animals as a general rule - but for some stupid reason this little lost dog found that secret place in my heart that very few are allowed to enter - I mean, other than Jesus, My wife and two beautiful children - there pretty much isn't anyone else there... or so I thought. How silly of me to hurt so much over a stinking dog. It's not like he talked to me, spent quality time with me - - but, it isn't about me. It is about my family. Buddy became an integral part of our family. He went camping with us - and if you know the Bambrick's we love camping! Buddy spent most of his time just sitting with us. At our side, at our feet, at the foot of our bed, in my son's arms, in my daughters lap and jumping up on my wife (which I strictly forbade... but thought was really cute). I don't really know how to describe the hurt inside - other than to say the pain that a dad feels when there is NOTHING that can be done to protect the raw, painful feeling of loss over a loved one, from touching the lives of your children and spouse can't be put into words.

As I went into the yard last night to move Buddy from the cold damp lawn, to the side of our home (where Animal Control can come and pick him up) I was completely overcome with all the emotion that I normally keep at bay. A really close friend of mine recently told me that he has wondered where Rick's compassion was - well, at that moment I knew - I don't reveal that side of me very often - but as I carried Buddy I thought of the tears my children would shed, the loss they would feel for thier 'buddy', their companion - I lost it.

Being the 'Man' of the house I tried to regain composure before coming in the house - but my wife knew, she could tell that I was struggling. We had a long family hug and spent the rest of the evening (it was 11:30pm by this time) going over family photos of our many vacations, birthdays and finished with some really cool memories of Buddy. I thought we would all settle down for the night and be ready for church today - when later that night (er... morning) Ashley woke up sick. The stress of the evening was too much for her. Man, I hate being powerless over life's speed bumps.

Thankfully, my wife and son were able to get to church for setup at 7am (ok, so maybe they only had one eye open) and Ashley and I followed at 830. We are all very tired - emotionally drained and as Ashley just told me - she can't believe it's real. She say's it is kinda weird that Buddy isn't here - she looks at our double doors waiting to see his face - I keep hearing his name tag jingling and find myself looking up quickly from what I am doing to see if maybe it was him - maybe he wasn't dead and he is walking around...

He isn't.