I am so sad. I feel like a permanent part of me is gone. I'm missing Zsa Zsa every second, especially when I come home. She was always around, and every square foot of floor and furniture is imprinted with her. When I moved here I put everything away with some consideration given to her needs, so everything I do and everywhere I look makes me think of her.
The worst thing is that the fridge has always made little noises that sounded like her "hello" meow. To come home today and go into the kitchen and hear that sound! Out back is the garden where she's buried, and the living room was where she'd lie on me and sleep while I watched TV, and the comfortable bedroom chair for reading is where she'd relax, with or without me being there.
I know this gradually gets better, and when it builds up and builds up I can finally bash out in a huge long cry that helps. I didn't have any time or energy for a big cry yesterday, but today -- with Muffet getting spayed at the vet's -- I'm back home alone in this house that I feel so much of Zsa Zsa in, it's like suffocating.
I've had my huge come-home crash-and-cry. I can see some good things. This is the worst feeling in the world. My heart goes out to everybody who has felt it, because I think everybody has, and if they haven't yet then they will.
4 comments:
I lost my favorite animal ever back in January. I've had a total of seven pets put down in my life (three cats, four dogs), and it's always painful, but this was just on another level. You might imagine that the fact that he lived to be such an ancient beast would at least have been some comfort, but it sure didn't work that way in practice. I've never had a bond with an animal as strong as I did with Jack. Four months later, I'm functioning normally enough, but I still get lachrymose thinking about him, and goddamn what I wouldn't give for just one more day with him.
Wow...just writing this, I'm kind of setting myself off. But the point is, I know exactly how you're feeling from very close experience, and I can't say much other than note--as you already know--that it DOES get better.
It may seem like cold comfort, but I remember something from a TV preacher - "seasons."
The way it works in this world, we become attached to things that we liked, loved or needed.
The lesson was that these things (people, jobs, cats, etc.) are given to us for "a season." It could be for days, months, or years. But when that season is past, we lose the thing we had become accustomed to.
We therefore have to be grateful for the time that we had together - for that "season." And now the season is over - and another begins.
Like I said, perhaps cold comfort to someone in grief. But it's really a good and valuable lesson, and I believe it gives a needed perspective - and helps in the healing process.
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Which leads to the King Solomon story:
So it came to pass that King Solomon wished for a magic ring that would make him sad when happy, and happy when sad.
All of his magicians failed to produce such a ring.
One day, a jeweler came to court with a "magic ring." The King put on the ring, but felt no magic.
The jeweler said, "King, the magic is not in the gold, but in the inscription."
So King Solomon took off the ring, and read the message:
"And this too will pass."
Even wise King Solomon had to accept the fact of “seasons.”
I hope that you feel better soon, as you embark on the "Muffy and Muffet" season!
Hang in there. *hugs*
I do not look forward to the day (likely soon) when I will need to say goodbye to Stella. :(
Yes, I'd give anything for one more day with Zsa Zsa too. It's amazing this deep, terrible feeling. I suppose it's good in a way, because it shows how much love and loyalty we're capable of, but wow.
Thanks for your comments. Today is much better and I'm looking forward to Muffet coming home tomorrow, though I'm still in a constant buzz of low-level, pervasive anxiety. A new season!
Here's to happy times with Stella, Raven!
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