On Grieving

Ah the posts you never want to write but somehow the words keep moving around in your head. Finally it is just best to sit down with a box of tissues and let it out.

There are multiple triggers for this one but today it was a small box dated May 2016 that linked it all together. I was putting things away and came across something I am not yet able to let go, a box of medication for Gus. That box and three of its four pills moved with me from New York. It sat in under the bathroom counter in the apartment for a year and a half and now it sits on the new bathroom counter because somethings are memories even if they are useless. That box is the link to another life. Sometimes I forget how difficult that time was and sometimes I remember all to well.

I do know that my experiences taking care of Gus long term helped prep me for dealing with D's accident. I knew how strong I could be and had a clue how strong I would need to be.

That box also reminds me of the people from my vet's office. One in particular that is causing me to sob. M was this lovely soul that always had time for us. I think her middle name should have been empathy. She was the one that posted pictures of Gus on Facebook for me when we traveled and he stayed with them. She was the one that laughed when I told her to call him Big Tough Kitty when he was not feeling well. She was the one that took this picture.

She was also the person I messaged asking for help to end his struggles. I had to message her because I knew I would break down crying if I heard her voice and had to say the words. She was the one that wrapped up the shawl we brought with us and kept it safe to return with his ashes.

She was the one that came to take Jack's body from us.

She was also one of the first people to get a picture of Burt. Because people that understand why new kitty pictures are important are my kind of people.

Do you ever have those people in your life that you wish you could have known better. She is one of mine. We did connect on Facebook after the move out here. She was a bright, funny, beautiful person. It broke my heart to watch her go from being the caregiver to all of us pet parents to being a patient. A patient that kept beating the odds in all the worst ways. She was not supposed to be at risk for the disease that took her. She was not supposed to go from being on the road to recovery to hearing what would cause her death.

She is supposed to still be at the office taking calls and bringing comfort to all of us that needed her. She is supposed to be making me laugh at her witty comments and matching sense of humor. She is supposed to be curled up with her own kitties and wife.

But she is not and the world is less because of it. Rest well M. I hope Gus was there to greet you on the other side.