I washed sheets and blankets today. And don’t worry, it’s not the first time I’ve ever done my own laundry. But still, today was different.

As I pulled the blankets off of Jude’s favorite snoozing spot I cried. Hard.

I cried because I knew that once those blankets and sheets were fresh and clean, Jude would never again be able to make them dirty. That’s because after 16 years by my side, Jude is gone.

Even writing those words is hard. There’s a part of me that knows how true it is because I was with him when he died. And yet, there are large pockets of my mind and heart that keep expecting him to lick my feet when I come back from a run. I expect him to put his face at the edge of the couch and wag his tail as his puppy dog eyes look in mine.

I expect to hear his collar jingle when I open the front door. I expect to have to step carefully when I get up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. I expect him to be here.

But he’s not. And while I know that death is a part of life, and a part of owning pets, it doesn’t make it any easier. I’m thankful he lived over 16 years – 121 in dog years – but I still wish he had had more in him.

A good long life is never long enough. At least that’s how it seems to me. Pets, people. When they are gone we always want more.

I’m trying to hope in the day that God sets all things right in this world. I’m trying to believe the truth that He will, because in every molecule of my being I know that death is not right. It’s not how we were created. It’s evidence of how broken this world is.

And yet, it’s hard to hope when you are grieving. It’s hard to wipe the tears as you put blankets into the washer. It’s hard to know what life will look like next. Of course, not everything has changed, but a lot has. It’s a blank slate – a clean sheet – because in some big ways my days will look different now. The friend I’ve had by my side for most of my adult life isn’t here. That hurts. So if that means I cry while I do laundry, I’m going to cry. If that means I have to take a deep breath when I realize I won’t see him sleeping on my couch again, I will.

So as the sheets and blankets spin in the dryer, I’m not entirely sure what’s next. All I know is that the next time I wash them they won’t have dog hair on them. And while I prefer them clean, that reality still makes me sad.