For some reason I just miss her so much today. I want to bury my face in her soft fur. I want to hear her purr. I want to rub her under the chin. I want to touch her one tan toe. It's a beautiful sunny day and I want to see her sunning her belly on the window sill and be able to rub that warm soft fur.

I left flowers on the road today, on the place where she died.

Magdalene

Im so sorry for your loss. Its strange isn't it..how we miss them like crazy, everyday, but then you get those days like you are having when you just can't get away from the heartache and the feeling you are having, you miss them much more some days
Hugs to you, I hope you are feeling brighter soon(((hugs)))

These are the days that we just get through. No way around them, just through them, with a lot of sadness and tears. I know how much you miss her - it's always the little, endearing & unique things about him that make me just ache to see my boy again. The pain becomes physical, it's so tough. Please know that you are both in my thoughts and prayers tonight...I hope tomorrow is easier. Every now and then we seem to get a lighter grief sentence for the day..

So true.

For me, it's all part of the up-and-down reaction of grief. There are some days when you think "I'm getting through this, it's going to work out", and then other days when you know "It will never be better, it'll hurt forever, and never be better." In the end, when things sort of settle, it's kind of a middle ground, or anyway, it's been for me. It's gone from daily and seemingly unending tears and the "Whys" to being able to smile at some of the goofy memories and funny things I want to remember forever. That doesn't mean there are no more tears - they come when I least expect them, but I know they'll pass, and will be back again one day. It somehow works out, I do believe that, we have the capacity, with the help and comfort and support of each other, to push through it and make it. It may be apropos, but when I worked Labor and Delivery, towards the end, when the woman said, "I can't do this!" you tell her to push through the pain, it's the only way to end it. Sometimes grief is like that, you have to force yourself through the hurt to get to the healing, and it's one of the most hurtful things you can do, but it has to be done.

God Bless You, Magdalene, we understand, we all know. Come back and let us know how you're doing, and take care - Barb

Magdalene,

We are in the same place it seems. I am so sorry for your loss. And I completely undertand how you're feeling. Monday will be four weeks since I lost Chaos. It seems like four years. It seems like a lifetime ago that I had him here, with me. After the second week, I started getting my "grief parole" every now and then. But yesterday his death hit me again, hard. I didn't wail in grief like I did the first three days after his death, the pain is too deep for that, and my heart has seemed to figure that out. I just went on about my day, with a deep, permanent-feeling ache in my chest.

I have a new kitty (as well as my 13 year old tortie, Katie), and am already falling in love with him, but no one could ever replace Chaos. I wish I could pick him up and hug him again, and kiss his little brown cheek. Or scratch his chin (which was very lion-like in appearance). I loved to play with his toes, too. Or how he would gently tap me in the morning with his paw when he was certain I was awake enough to feed him and Katie breakfast. I miss every little thing about him, and his being gone is like a huge hole that will always be empty.

The loss of him has simply settled into my heart and made me a different person.

Please keep us updated on how you're doing Magdalene. My thoughts are with you.

Much Love,

Jenn (Chaos' Mom)