Two Years

At 4:45pm today, it will officially be two years since Stray Cat tragically passed away.

Mamma marked one year in this blog post.

This year, she is letting me do the writing.

On (what turned out to be) Stray Cat's last day, I kept him company in the sun room while mamma was at work. She came home early to finish her work day from home. We followed her into the dining room, and stayed with her while she worked. My big brother's breathing was labored, and mamma got very concerned that he had too much fluid on his lungs.

She took him to the animal hospital for another chest-tap so they could remove that fluid in hopes he would feel better. She seemed a bit frantic, and very sad. She reassured me they would both be home soon.

Two hours later mamma returned with Stray's empty carrier. She was sobbing so hard I did not know what to do to help her.

Since that day, Stray Cat has never returned home. I felt depressed that Stray Cat wasn't home anymore, and I did not really understand why - but the answers to all of my questions were not as important as making sure mamma got up in the morning and to not leave her alone when she would cry. Naturally, I did my best to give mamma more affection, and pay more attention to her needs.

I did not know what to make of all of this. I still don't. The emptiness we both still feel and the new silence that is ever so present in our home because of Stray Cat's absence.

Stray was a good big brother to me. As soon as I arrived, he treated me like a baby sister and took me under his paw and showed me the ropes of life in Florida.

Today is a solemn day.

January 26 will always be for us. Eight years prior to Stray Cat passing on this date, Myles crossed over into heaven. Our only solace is that they are together with Jesus, playing, having fun, and just waiting to see us all again.

To make a donation in honor of Myles, please do so here: https://www.kidsandcars.org/
Thank you.

Hug your loved ones, Readers, hug them often.
-Stivali. 🐾

What we have once enjoyed deeply we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us. -Helen Keller.

One year.

One year. A post written by Stray Cat's mom. Stivali will return to her blog writing in February. 

Why do we recognize sad anniversaries? Is it just in our nature to know? 

Every 26^th day of each of the past 11 months, I was very aware that it was indeed the 26^th – and as the clock ticked to 4:45 on each Friday afternoon after the 4:45 of Friday, January 26th that Stray Cat dramatically died – I knew. I calculated, “one week”, “two weeks”, “three weeks” – it is painful yet inherent. I could not even help it, I did not want to recognize it, I did not want to acknowledge it, but just like how my mental alarm clock wakes me up at 5:15 every morning, regardless of me having to get up to go to work on that particular day, my brain, my heart, my body, my soul… knew.

Why do we recognize sad anniversaries? Do we even have a choice?

I made no plans on this one year marker. Anyone who asked me to do something today I declined. I did not tell them why. I just declined. Made plans for Friday the 25^th, made plans for Sunday the 27^th. But Saturday. Saturday, January 26, 2019. No. No plans. No thank you. Because I had no idea how I would feel when I woke up. Knowing. Knowing one year passed.

I do not feel any crappier or any less crappy than I have felt every single day since 4:45pm Friday, January 26, 2018. The day I took my beautiful Maine Coon for a routine chest-tap – a chest-tap that is routine for cats with Congestive Heart Failure. A procedure he had a few months prior and came out like a champ. The day marks the day I took my cat to the doctor to feel better. Not to die.

Yet, that is what happened that day.

Am I in a depression? Maybe, maybe not – because I push through. I get up and get out of bed every day when I rather pull the covers up over my head. And stay there. All day long. 

I get up, I do yoga. I meditate. I get ready for work. I go to work and function like a living self-sufficient human. I exercise after work. I cook. I eat. I see my friends. I visit family. I go back to bed. And I sleep (most nights). 

So, I think that is something to celebrate: I am pushing through.

In every day that has passed since my beautiful cat tragically died, I have been trying to focus on rejoicing about his life, and I have tried (most of the times, failing) to not focus on how shocking and heartbreaking it was to witness his death.

I guess it is all part of the grieving process. You push through. People say, “It’ll get better.” But I know that is a lie. I have pushed through before after losing a loved one, and it never ever got better. It just altered my world.

Life becomes different, and we figure out how to live with the difference – it is never ever better. Just different.

No, Google Photos, we did not need a reminder. 😩
Photo in left corner of his fuzzy paws was taken after he took his last breath. 

I am grateful that this little Stray Cat walked into Abbracci and chose me.
I am grateful for the 10 years, 09 months, and 02 days we had.

Today, I will focus on those facts.

Thank You, Lord, for surrounding me with Your goodness and mercy even today as I grieve. - Psalm 23:6