I am so tired now, but ias I write this, t's only 10:30 a.m.. I got up at 5:00 this morning. I could not go back to sleep. I responded to some posts on LS site which I had been meaning to do for a couple of days. I had to work quite a lot this week and in the meantime just didn't feel very well. But I also visited a couple of friends too, so perhaps I've kept too "busy" and do need some rest.

Now, I just feel so really, really tired and lonesome for Hannah. I lay down on our bed and cried and cried because I miss Hannah so very much. Now I just want to go back to bed. That doesn't seem right to me. I used to get sad about things even when I had Hannah, and I would cry then too. Sometimes I would get in the bed and go to sleep with Hannah with me. Now, I feel so bad that I ever cried about anything else as long as I had Hannah. I feel bad for that and ashamed -- like I didn't always appreciate her. It seems if I just had her back, I would never cry about or want anything else ever again. (Not really very rational or real, I suppose; just how I'm feeling right now.)

I was thinking about how sad we all feel, and trying to think of a poem in American Literature that expresses that awful pain. It is said there are no words to express, but I have often found in literature that there are some, poets especially, who capture our feelings very well.

Here are a couple of poems that I can relate to, and I wanted to share them with you:

BEREFT
By Robert Frost

Where had I heard this wind before
Change like this to a deeper roar?
What would it take my standing there for,
Holding open a restive door,
Looking downhill to a frothy shore?
Summer was past and day was past.
Somber clouds in the west were massed.
Out in the porch's sagging floor
Leaves got up in a coil and hissed,
Blindly struck at my knee and missed.
Something sinister in the tone
Told me my secret must be known:
Word I was in the house alone
Somehow must have gotten abroad,
Word I was in my life alone,
Word I had no one left but God.
__________
Thank goodness I have ya'll and this site. I pretty much don't even feel like getting out and doing anything much, at least most of the time. Of course, some days I just have to make myself.

Here's another poem that I really like too:

By Emily Dickinson:

If you were coming in the Fall,
I'd brush the Summer by
With half a smile, and half a spurn,
As Housewives do, a Fly.

If I could see you in a year,
I'd wind the months in balls --
And put them each in separate Drawers,
For fear the numbers fuse --

If only Centuries delayed,
I'd count them on my Hand,
Subtracting, till my fingers dropped
Into Van Dieman's Land.

If certain, when this life was out --
That yours and mine, should be
I'd toss it yonder, like a Rind,
And take Eternity --

But now, uncertain of the length
Of this, that is between,
It goads me, like the Goblin Bee --
That will not state -- its sting.
_________
We know this grieving is a process, and perhaps it's time I just take a rest today. I am off from work for three days, so I think I will do that.

Thanks again for all your support and caring.

Marcia

love these poems... Marcia..they are perfect!
no wonder you are weary--this grief thing does take it all out of a person.

Last night I laid in bed next to my fella (he was asleep) and just cried and cried and cried (well it did not help that I was reading a chapter about pet loss!! LOL) but today I keep thinking about some things in the chapter and I do feel better today than I have in days. You might find the authors insight interesting too--since you have written extensively about your "guilt"

This author writes predominately about animals (her name is Susan Chernak McElroy) the name of the book is Animals as Guides for the Soul, the chapter was Grief, Guilt and Atonement.

After every one of McElroy's speaking engagements (I guess she had a big blockbuster animal book before this one) scads and scads of people come up to her to confess how awful and bad and rotten they are --how they all let down their animals, how they all "caused" the end to come too soon--how they all felt they had not done the right thing--on and on and on--she wondered why and then it occurred to her that we as pet owners do everything for these animals--we feed them, shelter them, water them, take them to the vet, walk them, brush them etc etc etc etc!! we "control" practically every single solitary aspect of everything for them--so small wonder when the end arrives (and HOWEVER it arrives) that we also automatically feel responsible for THAT as well.

We are so used to controlling it all--in the end we lose the control. Is it any wonder after having complete control we somehow discern that the lack of control is somehow of OUR making?? it's logical. She had a huge list of the things people have said to her--"if I had been there, if I hadn't left the gate open, if I had taken him to the vet sooner, if I hadn't taken him to THAT vet, if I had gotten home 10 minutes earlier"--on and on and on. It made me think about (and actually write out) ALLL the terrible tragedies that could have befallen my Ginger..for one thing the bull mastiff next door could have shredded him to pieces, the rickety greenhouse in the back yard could have fallen on him. He could have eaten poison (the neighbors put out ant poison often) He could have gotten spooked out of the yard and then lost--an endless endless list! I know that I would have felt responsible for ANY of these occurrences. ANY of them!! Do you see a bit of what she is saying? There is no end your animal could have reached that would have been alright with you! (and that you would not have blamed yourself for!) she said people whose animals are 18 years old have owners upset with themselves over some 24 hour period--"maybe I could have waited another 24 hours"!

McElroy really believes it would be alright to write up a "confession" (acknowledging your perceived "wrongs") and then finding a way to atone. I am thinking I will give this a go. Because, you know everyone keeps saying to me that what happened to Ginger was not my fault...but in my heart I do not agree. I am especially guilty of hanging onto to him when he was in obvious pain. I am going to try this confession thing and also find a way to honor Ginger (that is the atonement part)--she says doing something in the animals memory is the best way to atone. I just have to figure out what it is. thanks (as always) for reading my posts. May we heal together!!!
p

Patti,
Thanks for sharing that. I know everyone here will find it very helpful. I am going to go online to order that book. It sounds like it would be really helpful. I have been searching for a book that would help. It makes a lot of sense. It is really a position in which we are not in otherwise -- we do have almost total control over what happens with our beloved animals. Human babies at least cry when they are in pain or are hungry or thirsty. Oh, if only our little furbabies could do the same, it would be so much easier! Caring for these "animal children" is a huge responsibility and something we have had to muddle our way through, often alone and with mixed messages from society, friends, vets, etc., for the most part.

One of the books I read (Grief Recovery Handbook) stresses that we have just not been taught how to let things, people, etc., go. We have been taught how to acquire; not to let go. And we have not been taught how to really work our way through loss and grief. We aren't taught how to deal with our own grief and loss, much less to help others. And, this is in general -- dealing with loss of human life. As we all know. so many people that we have to deal with just can't understand that the loss of our animal companions is equal to any of the most devastating losses in life. If and when the day comes that people are given the choice to end a human life, they will know a pain greater than they have probably ever known. It is the "never being 100% sure" that a particular decision was right that really torments the living, I think. So, I know there are lots of people out there in horrendous pain that they would like to have a choice, but what an excruciating decision to have to be made by a family member or other loved one!

I too have been writing a lot about my feelings in a journal I'm keeping on my computer and in a notebook. That has helped some. I write about the sad feelings and then try to balance them out with the good feelings and memories. When I get "going," I tend to have a one-track mind. I have to make myself stop and look at everything from a different perspective. There's no doubt in my mind that we (or I do) exacerbate our pain by focussing on only one aspect or issue instead of weighing both sides. I am also reminded of what someone here said (right now, I can't remember who) about "it could not have been me who made that appointment, it couldn't have been me who took my baby to the vet to be put to sleep . . ." I totally agree with that, and I believe that we did know it was the right thing at the time -- I don't believe I could have done it without some higher guidance and knowledge.

From what I read and from what you just said, all the things you mentioned are perfectly normal. When in severe grief, our mind just keeps searching and searching, trying to find answers. Going over and over every aspect, blaming ourselves for everything we did and everything we did not do. As you said, no matter what we had done, no matter what, there was no way to make their going a good one. No easy way to let go. No "right" time.

I am going to do the same about the confession too. I have been making lists of all the good and wonderful things I did for Hannah, as well as my "perceived" wrongs. For one thing, I think we forget that though we loved them as much as any human being, we are still the ones who have to work to keep the roofs over our heads and food in our mouths. I had been thinking today if only I hadn't moved here into this apartment, if only I hadn't switched jobs, etc., Hannah might have lived longer.

It wasn't your fault about what happened to Ginger. We all know that, but I understand how you feel. I know about what the mind knows, but the heart has yet to grasp. One day, after we keep working on our healing, we will come to understand and know we did the very best we could. We know how much we loved them. You were extraordinary in your efforts to save Ginger. I commend you for that. You were certainly not trying to prolong her pain -- you tried everything to make her well again, and I know Ginger knew that and knew how much you loved him. It's okay. It really is okay. You have every reason to be proud of your efforts, I promise you that. You had so much hope for Ginger, as we all did.

I believe that sometimes things happen for reasons we don't understand at the time. I have pretty much always believed that. Sort of like, when one door closes, another opens. If we had our choice, we may never grow, and that is what life is all about, isn't it? All of us on this site have all the love we gave and shared with our babies, all the love, help and caring we've given to each other and received here. Most of us have met other people more like ourselves than we ever would have otherwise met. This is a miracle it itself. From all of this pain, and because of the love and compassion we shared with our babies and with each other, we will become better people and the world will become a better place if we just keep on trying.

We will honor our babies, of that I have no doubt. We have already begun, even in the midst of our tears and grief.

I wish you a peaceful night and a good rest for us all.
Marcia

Marcia and Patti,

I just read all the posts you 2 wrote in this thread. I was really touched. I relate so much to what everyone shares on this site. You're right, Marcia, about meeting people more like-minded here than we ever could have met in any other setting. Little Girl, Hannah, Ginger, .....all our precious fur-children... arranged it so that we could meet here. I am so thankful for this site and for all of you.

I still have a lot of "grief work" to do over Little Girl's passing. I started some of it before she actually passed on (the 2 weeks before were a complete roller coaster). I wrote a list of things that could have happened in her life---but didn't, and the good things that did happen in her life. I still haven't written a letter to her---pouring out all my apologies, love, etc. etc.---which is something I really want to do.

I also need to deal with a lot of old grief and guilt surrounding the death of my Mariah in 1998. The article and book excerpt that each of you shared on guilt have already helped me a lot.

Anyway, I just wanted to post a comment. Thanks for sharing your feelings and thoughts. They are so valuable and much-appreciated.

Love,

Kathy

Hi Marcia and Kathy,
Happy Memorial Day! Hope you both will enjoy this day!

"Not being so good at letting go" really resonates with me. I don't know how long it has been for me 2 weeks? Every morning I wake up my first thought is of Ginger. My last thought at night is of Ginger. Most every thought in between has been of Ginger too. If I had visited here prior to Ginger's demise (which I never would have but that another story!) I might have read a statement like mine about all these consuming thoughts and concluded "that poor person needs a life"! How niave I was about how much something like this hurts. I have lost pets before but not in this way. My other pets were old and sick. Ginger was only about 8 or 9 and really hardy. Wow, he loved to put away his food! that's why he weighed nearly 20 pounds. He was really a huge cat and could defend himself--did defend himself really well. sigh. but there is nothing he could do to defend himself against what happened.

Yesterday my SO and I had a really long talk about the whole terrible Ginger event. I have been so angry with him. In many ways I felt like he literally killed my kid and shrugged it off. He has three grown children and a grandchild--I don't have children and obviously put alot of energy into these cats. (I have--er, had two, my other cat is an indoor named Ruggles.) This is much of what is at the heart of my problem--many people (including SO!) think human offspring are so much more important than domestic pets. Yeah Yeah I KNOW I "should not" be so invested in a cat--Yeah Yeah I KNOW (and agree!) that human children are uppermost! I know I know!! but that does not change that Ginger was MINE and realllllllllllly important to me! I kept thinking things like well hell why don't I just drive over one of his children and see how HE likes it!! I'll just roll over one of them and say "sorry"---(stupid thought, I know. but it was there simmering all the time!!) Yesterday we went for a walk and I told him how flipping out furious I am that he has been so dry-eyed. It was a good heart to heart and I am feeling world's better about it today. SO explained to me that it HAS been hard for him, that he DOES regret it and that although he didn't love Ginger in the same way he did like Ginger and wanted no harm to come to him. All this made me feel much better ...I am no longer mad at SO. Progress.

In the book I mentioned the author wrote about how helpful rituals are. She wrote about her little "shrines" for her animals. Prior to what happened with Ginger I might have thought she was a new-age dingbat. Honestly. But now I see that she is correct--ceremonies and rituals are very helpful to try to get to the other side of this grief. I have not decided yet what to do with Ginger's ashes. Right now they are in the art studio (thats where he lived when he was indoors) His ashes are on a shelf on top his blanket. His blanket is dirty but I can't wash it.

Yesterday SO and I bought a "suncatcher" for the tree in the back yard. It has 5 long strings of dangly broken mirrors on it. Really dazzlingly pretty like my big boy. Love bounced back and forth with he and I like the sun in those mirrors. Right now that is Ginger's "memorial". We will be outside today for a picnic for Memorial Day. SO's children will be here. Part of what is difficult for me is my "aloneness" in my grief. SO's children certainly won't give a fig about Ginger being gone. No one could really pet him but me. Ginger let me pick him up like a child--but no one else could get near him really. So no one misses him but me. it's been lonely.

Thanks you guys for making it just a little less lonely.