What Comes After the Goodbye?

Letting go of a dog, a city, and the version of me I thought would arrive next.

A friend texted me today: “How’s the new life going?”
I stared at the screen. The question landed hard. My reality?

I left NYC with just what would fit in a rental car and my 17-year-old dog just 18 days ago and arrived in Spokane 7 days later. What I hoped would be a fresh start has turned into a string of trials — proof that not everything in life is black and white.

The drive itself was mostly uneventful. A slight scare with Lucy one day and a feared run-in with a bedbug (that turned out to be an ant) were the worst of it. A day with my ex, who remains a friend and Lucy’s “dad,” was a welcome distraction on day six.

Two weeks ago, I shared about the trip west — full of hope, a little chaos, and a lot of love. I didn’t know what was coming next: a fall, a goodbye, and a new kind of quiet.

Lucy napping on her new, too small bed.

By day five in Spokane I was starting to find my groove and a routine for work, AA meetings, runs, and time with family — all without a car. I was leaving a noon meeting downtown, excited to explore the area for lunch and some window shopping when boom… I tripped and fell hard.

I got up slowly and saw blood. My nose was bleeding, my knee was torn open, and a lump was already rising on my forehead. I ducked into the transit center to regroup, but the officers there had other ideas. One look and they called the medics.

An ambulance. My first.

The ER cleared me of anything serious — no concussion, no breaks. Just eleven stitches and a hell of a bruise. All things considered, I got lucky.

And oddly enough, my body bounced back fast. The pain was mild, the healing swift. A small win that I’m still clinging to.

But by the end of that week, Lucy started showing signs that the end was near.

On Monday, just a week after my fall, a trifecta of symptoms made it clear: it was time. I walked her to the pet ER for the last time.

I’m grateful she’s no longer in misery. I’m grateful I spared her lingering days, weeks, or months.

But I wish I’d given her a dose of gabapentin before we left. She was stressed that last hour, and it hurts to think about.

Still, she had a long, happy life. I’ll never forget that tail, wagging until almost the very end.

vickivsn

A post shared by @vickivsn

Since creating Align & Thrive, I’ve said my next chapter would truly begin when my old dog no longer needed me. That time has now come, but I don’t yet feel ready.

And it feels like the trials keep coming. A glitchy brand-new computer (hopefully now resolved). A delay with my dental implant before I can move forward on a crown. Life just seems to be piling on.

---

When Rest Isn’t Enough

Through all of this, exhaustion has been a constant companion. Strangely, I’ve been sleeping more hours than I have in years, eight and a half or more, yet I still wake up drained.

At first I worried it was COVID. (Last time I felt this tired with so much sleep, that was the culprit.) But the test was negative. This is something different. Stress. Grief. Change. Maybe all of it.

I noticed it when I kept plans with my dad in the morning, but by the afternoon cut my day short because I was just too tired.

And then today’s “grand plan”: walking up to a local bar restaurant for Seahawks football brunch, something I haven’t done in years after living in NYC. I almost made it. But then I spent an hour looking for my apartment key card. It turned up in the same pair of pants I’d checked three times already. By the time it surfaced, any motivation to go out had vanished.

That’s the tension I live in: wanting to step into my new life, but too exhausted to move.

---

The Peanut Butter Toast Realization

I’ve long said, “As soon as Lucy no longer needs me...” But what about my need for her?

I got Lucy in 2008, looking for a reason to get outside for healthy walks and to spend more time at home. She gave me both. When I got sober in 2015, our life together became steady and predictable. By then we had her bichon sister, Lizzy, and her “dad,” Tony, in our lives. In 2019, all of us moved to NYC. Lizzy passed in 2022 and Tony left shortly after.

With COVID and lockdown, Lucy and I became constant companions. Routine was iron-clad. I was the one with separation anxiety whenever I left. Even when that anxiety eased, I always had to be back in time for her dinner or bedtime. She was woven into every moment of home life.

Now, since her passing, I feel, see, and hear her everywhere — expectations and habits my mind hasn’t caught up with.

Today, I had a piece of peanut butter toast. I looked around for a Lucy-safe spot to set it down, then remembered: all spots are safe now.

It’s a small thing, but it hit me. I’ve been waiting for her to free me for my next life. She has — and now I’m slowly taking small steps to open that door.

One of them: I joined TrustedHousesitters as a sitter after years as a pet parent member. I’m intentionally waiting a month before my first sit, but I can now start exploring the doors this opens.

---

This Is How Change Really Happens

Life after Lucy feels both heavier and lighter. Heavier because of loss. Lighter because the constraints are gone.

I used to imagine this change would flip like a switch, with one chapter closing, the next lighting up. But it’s more like dusk blending into dawn. You don’t notice it until the sky is different.

Turns out, it’s never that clean. Moving, downsizing, and grieving all at once would have been unbearable. Transitions overlap, bleed into each other, and unfold slowly.

A new life doesn’t just appear. It’s built — through action, through patience, through new routines that gradually outweigh the old ones.

When does a new life start?

My best guess: when those new routines, relationships, and experiences finally outweigh what was left behind. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.

---

Resilience Looks Like This

I’ve written before about resilience. But it never looks like resilience in the moment. Only in hindsight.

Maybe resilience is when desire and energy finally align.

Desire for a thriving business → Energy to show up most days
Desire for new connections → The courage to show up authentically and nurture them
Desire for new experiences → Moving from plan to action to lived reality

I am resilient. I’ll get there. But first I have to honor what my body and mind are telling me. For now, I’ll keep treading water until I’m ready to take that first real stroke.

Forward motion will come — slowly at first, and then with momentum.

---

What “Align & Thrive” Means Right Now

Align & Thrive isn’t about having it all figured out. It’s about being honest with what life hands you — ER visits, grief, exhaustion, toast moments — and still choosing alignment over perfection.

I’ve committed to staying in Spokane through the holidays. Initially, I made that promise to my step-sister so she and her husband could travel in December knowing I’d be nearby for our parents. She told me I didn’t need to keep that commitment now that Lucy is gone.

But I think I do.

Three and a half months to soak in family.

Three and a half months to find momentum again in my business.

Three and a half months to figure out what my next step really is (since my mind changes by the hour).

Three and a half months to discover what Align & Thrive will mean for me in 2026.

---

Closing: An Invitation

So — how’s the new life going?
Slowly. Tenderly. Unevenly. But starting, nonetheless.

What part of your life is whispering that a new chapter’s begun — even if you’re not quite ready to turn the page?

Or if you’ve recently been through such a shift, what did you learn? I’d love to hear your stories of reinvention.

---

Want to Support the Journey?

Align & Thrive is free to read. But if something here resonated, you can show your support (and raise my optimism) by buying me a coffee. Every cup fuels this mission—caffeine-wise and emotionally. 💛

📬 Subscribe & Join Me

• There will be missteps.

• There will be wins.

• And life will keep throwing curveballs.

Thanks for reading and being part of this journey with me at Align & Thrive!