One Day

Today if it were possible my Grandmother would have been 124 years old.

She's been gone since 2001.

Time where does it go to?

Today also marks one month since Boo gained her wings.

Time where does it go?

One day.

We only have to take one moment

at a time, if that what it takes.

But one day,

the hole in my soul won't be as large

and hurt as bad.

I'll be able to feel more of the love

and less of the hurt.

One day.

***

I just miss you Boo.

I knew it would be hard.

Hard things are simply that: hard.

UPDATE:

I found this in my draft folder.

Now it's nearly a full year later.

It's no longer just a month since

Boo left, it's now 13 months.

I see how much I took her presence

for granted. She was just always here

for 20 years.

It's amazing how much of a difference

one little tuxie kitty can make in your 

life.

I know no words can really be said,

that describe how much missing of one's heart

is, but there is a massive piece of mine gone.

I love you Boo.

Hope you give a nosekiss to your sister Abby

and let her know how much I miss you both.

 

One Week -- Thank you

 

A week has passed since Boo received her angel wings.👼 

Not much has changed.

So much has changed.

Somehow the ebb and flow of time

wears away at you.

It's the first time I've only had one cat

(Annabelle) since 2004.

It's very different.

I miss Boo in ways I can't even begin to explain.

How disruptive it is to have a someone in 

your life for so many years and suddenly,,

they've just gone away.

Poof.

Vanished into thin air.

One moment a beating heart,

and the next second none.

So many things can disappear in an instant.

But thank you to everyone who stopped by

with a kind word, a prayer or a purr,

each one meant a great deal to me.

More than I can possibly tell you.

***

I know we all find that as one day leads into 

another, that to others the loss that is felt in

the household it happens in loses its punch.

It's forgotten.

That is just the way it is.

Doesn't matter the severity of how it dismantles

one life.

I'm struck by that, and I have been on both sides

many times. Until it embeds itself into your 

inner sanctum it's hard to fathom.

***

Grief carries itself for a long time.

Its devastation is felt long after the 

shock of it wears away and 

everyone goes on with their lives.

I wish I knew an answer, but I've yet to find one.

I've been searching since I lost my Abby.

Now all 5 of the original cats are gone:

Abby (2013)

Gracie (2014)

Jinx (2021)

Ping (2023)

Boo (2024)

Can't wrap my mind around it all.

***

All of them so deeply loved,

and greatly missed,

and filled with gratitude for them blessing my time with them.

The Closing Circle

2004-2024

How do I sum up 20 years' worth of memories?

How do I express how much is within 

that time frame?

I begin with where it began,

and it all began with her.

In 2004 some foolish person abandoned 3 cats near by

home and they were adopted by me and my husband.

Boo, Ping & Mr Jinx.

Jinx was the first to leave in 2021,

followed by Ping in 2023,

and now the circle is complete and 

Boo is with her two brothers.

Boo was my final link to Abby.

Abby is my soul cat who left in 2013.

It's over, the circle has closed,

and has been completed.

My husband passed in 2021.

They're all gone now and together again.

 I suppose the mission of this blog in keeping

Abby's memories are done.

Because there are no more memories to make.

But I had to give one last final homage to the one who started it all.

***

Boo you were such a quiet mystery.

When we first met you were elusive and standoffish,

and typically, feline.

But as time marched on and each cat left us,

more of your personality emerged and you began showing yourself.

Towards the final years you became more

affectionate and you stuck to me like glue.

***

There was never NOT a time though, that you were not

docile and sweet natured.

You rejected conflict with Annabelle who so enjoyed

bedeviling you 

 even to the morning of your final day.

Oh that bratty sister I can hear you meowing!

These last years you stayed close by to me following me

wherever I went and nestled up to me at night.

I have to tell you Boo last night was hard,

knowing you weren't here beside me anymore.

At least not physically, although I hope you stay close by spiritually.

Breaking those habits of seeing you every moment

will take me some time to process.

***

I find it hard to believe that there isn't a one of us who 

doesn't question our decisions to say farewell.

Even though it's been in my general thoughts because of 

advancing age, I knew your time was nearer.

What was unexpected was how suddenly things turned.

***

To give some insight, last year my Mothers 14-year-old Jack Russell

developed seizures. I saw the progression of what Muffy went through

 and listened

to her Vet talk about what to expect.

A few weeks ago, Boo began having facial tics. They were

few and far between, but I kept watching her.

My main goal and concern was just keeping her

comfortable as she aged. I didn't want to subject her to 

a lot of medical visits if I didn't need to.

But on Tuesday evening, 6/4/24 something very different happened.

She was sleeping next to me in a chair and suddenly she started

acting like she was going to vomit, she was drooling heavily

from her mouth and she lost her balance and became disoriented.

She was having a seizure.

***

It was all over very quickly but I knew things had changed.

 After we went to bed, she had another attack.

Subsequently followed by more.

I knew.

That dreadful unflinching knowing.

From seeing what my Mothers dog went through I 

knew where it was headed.

I didn't want it to get as severe as I had witnessed with Muffy.

***

I got an urgent care appointment on Wednesday (6/5) 

 afternoon

 and my heart knew.

As I drove her to the Vet's office, that knowing feeling grew and grew.

I couldn't let her suffer with more attacks.

Even with medication, how much time was

I buying her? Was it for me or her?

I have been through enough losses that my decision was not to let

things get worse and not subject her to endless vet appointments

and needles and pills.

She was seemingly fine while the Vet examined her.

I had videoed her last attack. 

I shared it with the Vet.

The Vet knew too.

But she offered me a few options.

None of them offered anything but maybe

a small amount of time.

***

Did I want to make that decision to a cat that seemed

 OK right at the moment.

NO! I didn't.

Every fiber of my being wanted to grab her and run out the door. 

I didn't want to leave with an empty carrying case.

I just knew it was all so unfair.

Unfair to her to continue on and unfair to let her go.

I had to choose, and I did.

I let her go...

As it turned out I was the final person in the office,

and as I left,

with my empty carrier,

the rain was falling like the tears down my face.

***

Part of me feels settled with the decision because I know Boo had a 

long and happy life.

But it's never enough.

Even though rationally I know I did the right thing, my heart doesn't

feel that way.

Hard decisions are hard.

***

 I loved you for so many years, decades, and you loved me.

That love doesn't die, I know this.

It will live on inside of me until I am reunited again with all

of my boys and girls.

But it hurts like hell.

I've gone through a lot of loss, and it never gets easier.

The older you become the more the losses add up.

***

It's always hardest on the ones left behind.

We have to live with just memories of what once was.

Face a future with the absence of that which our heart

was deeply attached to.

Even though I have great gratitude for all the years,

the bitterness of the loss will hurt for some time to come

Until the heart forms it's scar tissue over that wound

and the memories will be more comforting than hurtful.

***

I know that the loss of my girl won't change the world,

but it changed my world, and it's gotten much bleaker

without her.

She was an angel while she was here and now, she's an angel

with fine silk gossamer wings.

Her health has been restored and she young again

with a beautiful coat that shines like silk 

as in the photos above of her in her prime, 

and she's happy.

I will tell myself these things and believe them.

For that is what I want for her.

***
 Boo I miss you.

 Boo I remember that day twenty years ago,

of you dashing across the yard like a rocket through the air,

you were so fast.

You raced the wind,

now you can again.

I will always remember you racing to me that day.

It's etched in my mind like the beauty of a sunset.

I've keep looking for you, but I can't find you.

You were just here and now you're not.

I know one day I'll be ok, just not today,

and maybe not tomorrow either,

or even weeks from now.

But soon.

I love you my sweet girl.

I just love you.

💗💗💗

Thank you Ann for the lovely badge.

Thank you to Meerier's Mews for the 

lovely tribute.

 

It's been a Year

It's been a year.

Nothing has really changed.

Everything has changed.

I still can't believe it that you're gone.

It's the same thing I hear every grieving

person say.

It's so hard to fathom, you'll never

have another moment in this life with

someone you've known most of your own.

It's difficult on many levels, because

the circumstances were not ideal.

Not by a long shot.

I really had a hard time the first few months,

and I thought all about the many years we

shared. I found photos of you and put them

in frames for the first time.

I painted a rosy picture and remembered

the good years. I talked to you nearly everyday.

I felt bad, and had that old regret so many have:

what could I have done more of?

Then one day I had to clear out an old email

account that was yours.

I found very hurtful things, that I was aware of

from the past.

It brought me back down to earth.

You were a complex person, like everyone is.

You had good qualities, and bad.

I still can't quite put it into perspective how all

the pieces fit, but when I came back to earth,

I couldn't paint you to be that noble person anymore.

Maybe it's good I can see the picture more

in focus.

Grieving is a difficult process.

And it is a process.

Our society has moved away from allowing us time

to grieve. People don't want to talk about it.

I think it needs to be talked about.

If you haven't lost someone who has a great impact

on your soul, then long term grief is very difficult

to wrap your head around.

People tell you to "move on", and if they do

that tells you all you need to know about how 

it is incomprehensible to them. They've never

gone through it and so from their perspective

it's bewildering it is to watch another person

"wallow" in their grief.

Yes, I've been accused of "wallowing" and told

to "move on", and now I know better.

When you know better,

you do better.

There is no wallowing, 

and there is no moving on.

You learn to carry the grief, 

it grows within you,

and over time, 

you find a way to make peace with it.

But, it never leaves you, if only everyone could 

understand this. Maybe it would make them

be more compassionate.

When you have multiple losses on top of each

other it just extends the pain and the loss.

I have a long way to go to fully understand my own

loss and my own grief, & it is something I am 

working hard on.

I'm not hiding it anymore.

***

And I still do miss seeing that phone number

appear on my caller id.

It's hard to know a number he kept for over 15 years

now belongs to someone new.

It's strange you never expect a loss.

Because you lose so much more than just a person.

I guess that's part of what people

who haven't suffered a significant loss get.

You don't just lose that person,

you lose an identity,

a lifetime of memories.

A future that is muddled.

There is much that has to be 

updated and changed when you least are able

to do tangled complex maneuvers.

There is a great deal more

than just losing one thing.

You lose what feels like everything 

all at once, and you have to begin

rebuilding from the ground up.

It takes each individual a different path

to find their own way back up again.

That's one reason why grief is such a

difficult process because you can only do it

alone.