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|rek (profile) wrote, |
on 10-5-2016 at 8:21pm
|secret time: i am grieving harder for my oldest cat than i did for my grandmother when she passed.
but she wasn't there, not really. just when i was old enough to really understand her, she was drowned in her own mind.
i can't get the image out of my head of them fitting his tiny, thin body in that box. is it because that's the last i saw of him? it keeps flicking into my mind. i woke up to it. his little arms. his little paws around his face. i just want to clutch him to my chest, stay here forever. never go. never leave.
i couldn't watch as he took his last breath. i couldn't take it. seeing the moment.
he was there when i came home, after getting out of the hospital ten years ago. soft paws, whiny meow, keeping me company during the night. any time i came home from college. home for christmas or holidays. funerals, weddings. always there. i can't stand the idea of coming home for thanksgiving or christmas this year and him not being there. today was so long. after i woke up, the shock wore off of what happened yesterday, and it suddenly became real. the day feels like it's lasting forever.
i have those moments in my mind. of him fat and fluffy. and then the images of him, old and skinny, but not unhappy. just tired. they're selling the house, and moving. he's staying with the house. his land, for fifteen years. now, always.