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| Bluebird (Hobby on top) |
There’s a point in the mourning process where no amount of
comfort or consoling will help. In fact, it may hurt no matter the intent.
Perhaps this is the stage of disbelief, I don’t know. But I am at that point
right now. Have been for quite some time.
I don’t want words of comfort, no hugs, no sympathy. I only
want my loved ones back. I heard a song the other night that included a phrase,
“How do I turn your
memory / Back into you instead?” (Symphony in 16 Bars, Kenny White) It really cut to my
heart. That’s exactly how I feel.
At
this point in my life, though I feel yet young, a fledgling in this thing
called life, I have experienced too many losses. They seem to be piling up and
each one only gathers all those before into a larger yarn ball of grief.
Just
last month I lost not only Rainbow and Twygal but also found out that Fred,
another of my colony cats, had died back in October. Of course all the pain
from those losses entwined so closely with those of earlier times. The ties
that bind. Twygal brought forth memories of Gabbie, Gabrielle’s Galaxy, her
namesake, lost in ’94 before Twygal was even born. Thoughts of Mouse, her
supposed mother, bring a sad smile to my face. And Aztec, my precious princess,
wanders into my thoughts, a very special girl also born in ’94 and lost too
soon.
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| Twygal, Aztec, Rainbow |
Rainbow
heralds her sister Ozma and her half brother Little Boy, her mother Hobby and
the sisters I didn’t keep, Harvest and Jacqueline. Fred, who was once Toe to
me, reminds me of Tic and Tac who died only babies, too young to fight.
Bluebird, the first of her litter to leave brings back the anguish of losing
her mother to diabetes as well as worries for the future of her brothers.
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| Effie & kittens, Fuzzball, Question, Bluebird |
All
of these thoughts crowd my senses and stop me from time to time, freeze my
thought processes and keep me from creating. Every day I’m brought right back
to a time when they were still here. Feeding times mean that Rainbow is no
longer on top of the freezer demanding her food, Bluebird’s spot on the shelf
is now taken by Glitter and the cat tree is empty, no Twygal to call for my
attention.
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| Rainbow |
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| Twygal |
Pill
time means fewer pills to set out, no fluids for Rainbow to fight. Shopping for
cat food is no longer the Great American Search for the new foods Rainbow or
Bluebird might try. Now I can buy specific foods for the remaining cats and
they will eat them. At bedtime Rainbow and Bluebird no longer fight for a spot
under the blankets with me and Twygal’s purr no longer rests upon my side as I
try to sleep.
My
spirit has been injured, my heart broken into so many pieces I’ll never puzzle
it back together again. And every pieces carries a soul indelibly fixed in my
circle of muses. Someday Rainbow will be our guide back together again.
Andrea, I understand. Sometimes it hurts worse as time goes on. And I am exhausted by my own losses in the past few years combined with all of them together as well.
ReplyDeleteI remember in 1996 after I lost my heart cat, Kublai, then Allegro, diagnosed with advanced lymphoma just two days before Kublai died, passed just two weeks later. I realized that a portion of my youth had passed with them, I no longer felt "young", but simply "mature".
And I'm not a grocery store shopper but haunted them for canned cat food and baby food. I remember after I'd lost my Stanley at age 25, I was back in the grocery store for something else months later and realized the last time I was there Stanley was still alive and I was a different person.
We are forever changed by their lives, so of course by their losses. I've been thinking of you.