Just this Tuesday, March 11, we lost our 16-yr old cat to lung cancer. She was getting old and I knew the day was coming that I'd lose her. We had her from a baby and she was just that--my "baby." We didn't know she had lung cancer until we took her to the vet because of a cough she'd developed, but turned out to be lung cancer and the vet said she had maybe a week to live. We decided to not let her suffer and just put her to sleep then and there. I am heartbroken beyond words. At this point in time I just really wish I could die too. And I'm not a "weak" person by any means, but this really feels like more than I can handle. I honestly can't imagine how I'll ever get over her. I think of the bezillion people who have lost loved ones (people and pets) who seem to get "over" it, get on with their lives, but honestly, right now, it seems an impossibility. All I can think is that I just wish I was dead. (and no, I'm not going to kill myself--but I wish I could) I feel like I'm just walking around in a fog right now, I couldn't care less about anything. And what does make it all the worse (if that's possible) is I just feel like no one understands.

Snapdragon, I am sorry for your loss. You will never get "over it", but you will get "through it". There is a difference. The grief journey is all about adjusting to life without the beloved fur kid. I lost my sweet Tina to lung cancer back in April of 2012. I had to let her go when she had trouble breathing and was down to 6.8 pounds. Steroid shots helped keep her alive, but she continued to lose weight.

The first days and weeks are always the hardest. It feels like your heart will just burst from all the pain and all you can do is cry. But it will pass. In time the waves of grief will be less intense and less frequent. The best you can do is be good to yourself and get as much rest as you can. It can help writing a journal about your cat and putting together a photo album/scrapbook. You could also plant something in her honor. These are all small ways to deal with the grief and the pain. The best thing to do is to just cry and let it out. The grief journey is different for everyone, and there is no set time when you should feel better, but generally speaking 3 months is a good indicator. It takes about 2 to 3 months for the worst of the grief to subside.



Hugs,
DannysMom

Hi, Snapdragon, please permit me to add my sincerest sympathies in the physical loss of your beloved feline companion. Losing a companion is never easy regardless of the circumstances or how long we are blessed with the privilege of their company. Euthanasia is the last gift of love we can give to our companions at great sacrifice to ourselves so that they can be restored to their former youthfulness in the company of the angels.

Snapdragon, this grief journey is one of the most painful experiences you will know on this side of eternity. It is a journey that cannot be reconciled in a minute, an hour, a day, a week, a month, or even 6 months - - for you are now on a journey that is filled with all the first withouts and the memories that can be all too painful right now that include "this time yesterday, last week, last month, last year" to endure. It is a journey that can only be traveled one day at a time, sometimes one moment at a time in your own way and in your own time - - with the reassurance that you are among friends here who truly do understand what you are going through, and we are here for you for as long and as often as you need us.

Although clinical professionals recognize that the grief journey for a beloved companion is the same as for a human family member or friend, sadly our society in general - - and sometimes the people who are closest to us emotionally and geographically - - do not. This is one of the many reasons why this wonderful forum is here as a safe place where we can come to share what is in our hearts without the fear of judgment or recrimination.

Please let me try to reassure you that what you are feeling and experiencing is very normal deep grief when you share with us: "I am heartbroken beyond words. At this point in time I just really wish I could die too. And I'm not a "weak" person by any means, but this really feels like more than I can handle. I feel like I'm just walking around in a fog right now, I couldn't care less about anything."

When our companions come into our hearts and homes our lives are changed for the better. They literally become the center of our universe. When they precede us to the angels our lives are changed again with the enormous painful task of re-defining our lives and establishing "new normals" that no longer include their sweet precious physical presence. This is a very painful adjustment - - both emotionally and physically. During the very deep grief - - the minutes, hours, days, and weeks immediately following the physical loss we experience the intense symptoms of enormous stress - - lack of appetite, insomnia - - or the opposite need for sleep without feeling refreshed upon awakening, lack of concentration, lack of control of our emotions, and the list goes on and on. AND there is the feeling like our hearts are literally breaking under the weight of the pain of our grief.

It is important that you give yourself the opportunties to release your deep grief in healthy ways. One of the ways our body deals with deep grief is crying. Scientific studies prove that the tears we cry are literally healing tears for they literally wash the toxins out of our body that build up from the stress of grief. And when your arms ache to hold your beloved companion, some of us have found that holding a toy, a blanket, a collar - - something that belongs only to your beloved compainon - - does help to ease the intense pain of not being able to hold your companion's sweet physical body. No, it isn't the same, but it does help to ease the enormous pain as you navigate your grief adjustment journey.

And as our forum friend DannsyMom has so compassionately shared with you - - there is NO "getting over" the physical absence of your beloved companion. Even 20 years down the road you will be thinking of your beloved companion and a feeling of sadness will creep into your heart and perhaps a mist will come to your eyes. But the GOOD NEWS is that these moments are not as intense or as frequent as they are now, and eventually instead of feeling this incredibly intense pain you will be able to remember your beloved companion and smile - -truly smile - - and feel the warmth of your many treasured memories you and your beloved companion share fill your heart.

As difficult as this deep grief journey is right now, there is one thing that will never change - - the love bond you and your beloved companion share. Love is eternal -- it is not restricted to the physical laws of time and space. I hope and pray that you will find comfort in knowing that your beloved companion's sweet Living Spirit continues to share your earthly journey as she always has and always will - - for she is always and forever a part of your heart and memories, Snapdragon - - she is always and forever a heartbeat close to you.

I know all too well from first hand experience that when our hearts are entrenched in deep grief there are no adequate words in any language that can soothe the seering pain of sorrow. Still I hope the words I share with you will offer you some measure of comfort, support, encouragement, and hope as you travel your grief adjustment journey.

Thank you so very much for honoring us in sharing your beloved companion with us, Snapdragon. Perhaps sometime you will feel up to sharing a picture of her with us - - but only when / if you want to. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Thank you, moon beam, for you so very kind thoughts, and your caring. I expected that someday, when I lost Molly Rose, it would be hard. But I had no idea I'd feel like my life just ended. Seriously, that how it feels. I feel like I can't do anything but just sit here. I feel zero desire to do anything. No exaggeration. And I consider myself a fairly "strong" person, but I feel like I've just been cut off at the knees. I feel at an utter loss, and actually just wish I wasn't living right now at all. The pain is indescribable. And it so, so, so helps, though to know that others understand, really understand. So I guess there's nothing to do but to cry and wait, huh?
Thank you for asking for pictures of Molly...I think I uploaded them ok, so they may appear. It's the first time I've looked at her pictures...mixed feelings, great pain, but also I remembered how sweet she looked, and how happy she was with us. We spoiled her rotten; she had such a good life. And I guess I can be happy that I have no regrets for how we cared for her for 16 yrs--she was pampered and very-well taken care of. But, the hole in my heart is hemorrhaging pain right now. And at the risk of sounding overly-dramatic, I just can't imagine that pain ever going away. But thank you SO much for your caring--it's like a suave on my wound. Really.

DannysMom -
I just read your "story." Phew! I cried in many places. I was going to say something about some of your comments, but there ended up being so many that tugged at my heart. So, so, so, SO sad. Why is it that the pain is SO bad. And I am so sorry for the horrible ER vet experience you had to go through. And that you lost Tina just a few months later. I can't even imagine your pain and suffering. I am about crazy with pain right now, but to go through it twice in such a short time. But now, a couple of years later, it does sound like the intensity of your pain has let up. So, you give me hope, even though right now, truly, I can't even imagine a day that is not soaked in pain and emptiness. At this point I don't even want to live, if living means this kind of pain every day. I care about utterly nothing right now.
Thank you so much for your sharing. Your reaching out is a speck of help in what feels like a very, very lonely place right now. - Molly's mom

Snapdragon, thanks for reading about my Tina and Danny. After Danny died I was in so much pain and didn't want to do anything. It was really unbearable. I was not prepared for this sudden loss. Your Molly is a beautiful cat! I love her cute little white socks and those beautiful green eyes. I can see why you miss her so much. What a darling little cat!

Yes, now a couple of years later the intensity of the pain has definitely let up, even after a year I was fine except for the anniversary death date of course. But I was able to really function again and enjoy life again instead of feeling empty and drained all the time. I had such a close bond with my babies as I'm sure you had with your Molly. These sweet little souls are so much a part of our lives and bring us so much happiness. They are just like kids except that they don't grow up and move out of the house!

What helped me was adopting early, but this is a double-edged sword and I would not recommend it for everyone. But it balanced out the grief for me, even though I wasn't able to fully love my new friends while still in deep grief, but I gave what I could and what they gave me in return helped so much. A loving paw placed on my cheek when I cried, a snuggle...it all helped. It is just incredibly hard coming to terms with the loss and going through the grief process and adjusting to life without the beloved fur kid. I guess the only way really to spare ourselves such pain is to adopt a parrot....they are likely to outlive us.

It may help you to find comfort in small things...a sunny day, a walk in the park, feeding birds, cuddling cats at the local shelter, making some crafts, anything that you can find a little joy in.

Hugs,
DannysMom

Hi, Snapdragon, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing, and this wonderful picture of your beloved Molly Rose. She is sooo sweet.

The word "hemorrhagging" is quite descriptive of how we feel when we are in deep grief. During the deep grief it is impossible for us to imagine a time when we will be able to smile again - - to enjoy doing things again. But I assure you, as DannysMom has, that this day WILL come for you again - - in your own way and in your own time. Unfortunately there is no easy way to navigate this grief adjustment journey - - there are no fast forward or delete buttons we can press that will speed up the process or make it automatically disappear. But I assure you, Snapdragon, that we are here for you for as long and as often as you need us. There are no "expiration dates" here for us come to share what is in our hearts.

Thank you again so much for honoring us in sharing your beloved Molly Rose with us, Snapdragon. I hope today is treating you kindly and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Molly Rose's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Thanks you, all, for your OH so kind love and support.

Today is not going well. We are supposed to go to friends' house later for dinner. And all I want to do is die. This pain is indescribable, and I have no idea why. I did not have this degree of pain when my mom died, which actually makes me feel guilty. And I loved my mom; she was a good, kind person, and wonderful mother. But I absolutely don't remember this level of pain with her passing. I just DON'T understand it....I am a normally strong person. But this is just killing me. I would never kill myself, that is, for me, just so wrong on so many levels, for me. But I wish I could because the pain feels intolerable. I wish I were dead, I miss Molly SO much.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. Being able to express the degree of my grief here is my only solace. Really. I just feel like I could explode with pain. I really have to get this pain out.

Hello Snapdragon. I was looking at the pictures you posted of your Molly Rose, and I wanted to tell you that she is absolutely beautiful, and you can just see that special sweetness in her eyes. I know how very much you are hurting right now, and your pain is still so new and intense, but I hope you will be able to fall back on that little bit of peace and comfort, in knowing what a wonderful and happy life you gave Molly. I truly believe that once in a lifetime, a very special companion will find us and come into our world, and they will find their way into our heart and our very soul, and no physical separation can ever break that connection we have with them. I am sure that Molly was and is your soulmate pet, that one in a milllion little snowflake, beautiful and special, and unlike any other.

The first few days after saying goodbye to Jasper, all I wanted to do was to go back to before he became so ill, to have just one more day, one more moment with him, but I know now that would never even be enough. Then I found myself wishing that I could fast forward the time, so maybe I would start to heal, and my grief would not be so sharp and raw, which is what you are feeling right now, I am sure. Well now I know that we can't do either, we can't go back and we can't go forward, but we can just try to get through one day at a time, one moment at a time. I am sure that you can understand this, but I would often wake up in the morning wondering how on earth my heart could still be beating after this loss, I have never felt such pain before and never ever want to again. I can so relate to your words and posts, and I did want you to know that what you are feeling is exactly how I felt those first few days, and I never thought that I would actually get to the stage I am at right now, whichever one that is, but I know it is not where I used to be, and I know I am taking baby steps every day toward healing, which will happen with you.

I wish I had the magic answer to heal your heart, but I still feel as though part of me is missing, and I probably will always feel that way. But I do believe that time is our friend here, and even though the deep sadness will still be there, it will be a softer and gentler sorrow, if there is such a thing, still very very hard, but not impossible to overcome. I have been through hardships and struggles in my life as I am sure you and everyone on this forum has, but this just brought me to my knees and rocked my very soul, and I can so feel the depth of sadness in your words, and my heart goes out to you.

I just wanted to let you know that I so understand where you are right now, and I wanted to let you know that you will not always be there, and just know that there is a light at the end of this tunnel, I finally found it and so will you, but it does take time, and the journey is not easy by any means, but you are not alone, and we are all here for you. Take care Snapdragon and know that you are in my thoughts and prayers, and I wish you peace and comfort in the days ahead. I know one thing, even though you are hurting so badly right now, I am sure you would not give up even one single day you had with your Molly, as I would not with my Jasper, snowflakes are like that you know, so special and so beautiful, yet gone way too soon.

Thank you, Jaspersmom. I can't even imagine going through this completely alone, without others who really understand. Yes, similar to what you said, I wonder how it is possible to suffer this much pain and still be breathing. This experience will give me a new depth of compassion and understanding for others--I don't see how one can go through this suffering and not be changed. But today, I would give anything to not be in this much pain. It's been five days.

We went to some good friends' house for dinner tonight. I had no idea how I'd do. But I did ok. "Ok" being, not breaking down crying. I tried to talk a little, even a forced smile. So, though it went ok, I felt dead inside. A new week tomorrow. I just as soon crawl into a hole and never come out. We'll see what this week brings.

Thank you again!! I really need the support right now. My hope is that, some day, I can reach out to someone and give them comfort and hope as well. Sometimes we just have to be the strength for someone else when they have none.

Thanks, DannysMom, for your sweet comments about Molly. It feels unimaginable that this pain will ever go away. Intellectually I can say it will, and think so, but emotionally is feels unimaginable. So your words are a help.

It blows my mind that such a deep bond with our fur kids is possible. I knew Molly was my "baby"....in fact, I would often call her my "baby girl," but I guess I wasn't aware of just how deep that bond was. Being here, in this forum, has helped. It can be so hard to keep this all bottled up!!
Thank you SO much for sharing, for your comfort and support. Hugs to you.

Hi, Snapdragon, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. Please let me try to reassure you that what you are feeling is very normal deep grief. There is no shame or guilt in what you share with us: "I did not have this degree of pain when my mom died, which actually makes me feel guilty. And I loved my mom; she was a good, kind person, and wonderful mother. But I absolutely don't remember this level of pain with her passing."

When our companions come into our hearts our lives are changed for the better. They accept us for who we are unconditionally. They don't care about our financial wealth - - or lack thereof, what our social status is, where we live - - be it in a tent, under an expressway overpass, in a modest structure, or a mansion. They just love us for who we are, and we surrender ourselves to them without reservation or fear of rejection. Our relationships with our human family members and friends is on a completely different level. Our human relationships include societal expectations - - to strive toward financial wealth on whatever level that may be, to live in an "acceptable" type of housing structure, to have social contacts both personally as well as for business / employment purposes, etc.. When these expectations are achieved or receive approval in our human relationships, these relationships prosper. When we do not meet with the standards of expectations, depending on the strength of the relationship it can either not have an impact with the relationship continuing to thrive or it can cause a significant decline to the point that the relationship ceases to exist.

The love you have for your mom is in no way diminished with the love you have for your beloved Molly Rose. It simply means that they are on separate and different levels. There are some people who think that we have to "choose" between the two. Clinical professionals recognize that this is unnecessary and unrealistic, for having a beloved companion in our hearts and lives - - for those of us who truly embrace them into our hearts and lives - - can bring us closer to the human relationships in our lives.

It is difficult putting on the "public face" when our hearts are entrenched in deep sorrow, so I know from first hand experience how difficult it was for you to endure the evening out having dinner with your friends. This is one example of the "social expectations" we have in our human relationships.

I hope today is treating you kindly, Snapdragon, and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Molly Rose's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Hello Snapdragon,

First off I am so sorry for the loss of your beloved Molly. She was quite beautiful and had such a sweet face. Thank you also for your condolences and comments on my beautiful Ari, he was the light of our lives and we miss him so. I completely understand how hard this is, truly one of the saddest and painful times I can ever recall. I too consider myself strong and the unflappable type. However that may also be one of the reasons we take our losses so hard. For me I thought that I could always be strong and protect my baby from anything bad that could happen to him. What this experience is teaching me is that I cannot control everything, no matter how hard I plan, how much I spend or or how often I pray. It has been truly humbling for me and I appreciate all the kind and compassionate mommies and daddies in this forum, who have not only had their own devastating losses but have been kind enough to listen and offer me words of wisdom and practical advice to help me though.

I can tell you it gets a little better with more time but I still cry almost every day, I just have more control of when and where now. We are excited to get our new babies in a few weeks (we saw them last night) but I am also terrified of losing another one so young again. I have had my last three cats die before age 9 and it makes me so afraid to love again. But I also know that I am not complete without the presence of a cat in my life, I simply am a better person for having them in my life and the legacy that each baby has left me is so precious. I am honored to have known them. I found this little piece of writing about dogs, not sure who wrote it but as I was debating getting another baby( or two), it spoke to me and I changed it to cats:

Every time I have loved a cat and lost it, the cat takes a piece of my heart with it. And every one has left a piece of their hearts with me.
If I am lucky to live long enough maybe all the pieces of my imperfect human heart will go with them
And my heart will have been replaced by one filled with the love of all the cats who have loved me.

Every time I have loved a cat and lost it, the cat takes a piece of my heart with it. And every one has left a piece of their hearts with me.
If I am lucky to live long enough maybe all the pieces of my imperfect human heart will go with them
And my heart will have been replaced by one filled with the love of all the cats who have loved me.

Thanks you kk for sharing that. It is sweet. And thank you for writing.

If I've been at 100% pain for the last week, I'd have to say today may have been at 99%. I didn't cry today until logging into the forum. But, even though I went through the day without tears, I still feel so, SO dead inside. And I still wish I could just close my eyes and be dead. The pain is still horrid and unrelenting. And I find I just don't want to talk to anyone about anything. Not just not wanting to talk about Molly, maybe for fear of just doing nothing but cry, but I just simply don't want to talk to anyone. At all. Poor hubby, I could go all day and not say two words to him. I just feel like I want to curl up into a ball. I guess I feel that, next to losing Molly, nothing else matters. That may be it. I just don't care....about anything. omg, I had no inkling her loss would be this horrifically painful.

Hi, Snapdragon, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. Right now during the deep grief nothing else matters - - and this is very normal. During the deep grief we measure time by the minutes, hours, days, weeks, - - and yes months - - that our beloved companion is no longer physically with us. But I promise you it will not always be this way. Slowly, at first quite imperceptibly, you will find yourself thinking of something else, someone else, and you will realize that the deep sorrow in your heart is not so consuming. Some people think that when this happens they are forgetting their beloved companion, but I assure you, Snapdragon, this will NEVER happen - - no matter how much time continues in your earthly journey you will ALWAYS remember your beloved Molly Rose. NOTHING in heaven or on earth can ever diminish your treasured memories or the eternal love bond you and your beloved Molly Rose share.

I hope today is treating you kindly, Snapdragon, and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Molly Rose's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Dear Snapdragon,

I am so sorry you are feeling so hopeless right now but I am glad you might be at 99% pain at least for today. I have learned that it comes and goes and it is not a straight line for sure. Please know that it does get better but we have to go through the "eye of the storm" and feel out grief and let it come out and yes, it hurts more than we ever imagined. I have lost my babies before and it's always an unbearable pain but this has been the worst for me for a lot of reasons. I do go to pet loss support groups regularly as well as come to this forum. Just to be able to express what I am feeling with others who also feel it is a tremendous comfort. I too, felt like I wanted to die, I have never felt that way before in my life. Shocking and scary. But please try and take care of yourself. If you don't want to talk, don't talk. If you want to cry, cry and sometimes when you don't want to cry, you will anyway and it's ok. Go ahead and curl up into a ball if you want to for awhile. When I finally ate, I had the biggest bowl of ice cream you could imagine, it comforted me. Do whatever feels like it is comforting to you but we need to feel what we are feeling, if you know what I mean?. It's all ok. It will get easier to manage but this is all fresh, raw and devastating for you. Journaling and writing about the memories of all the funny things my Ari did makes me smile...and cry. I have made peace with the fact, I will be crying regularly for awhile and maybe forever sometimes when I think of him. It doesn't make me weak, it makes me feel that the price we pay for the tremendous love of our beloved companion animals is the unconsolable grief that happens when they leave us. I am not 100% ok with that right now but I hope to be some day and remember Ari with more smiles than tears. Snapdragon, I am thinking positive thoughts about you and wish for you to take care of yourself and if possible, let you husband take care of you a bit. Mine felt comfort in comforting me. He is as devastated as I am but I recognize we all grieve in different ways and by allowing him to help me, who is always so strong and doesn't need help, it helped him with his grief. We also did personal memorial for Ari and it was lovely and moving and although my husband didn't say anything( he rarely does), I know how much we both appreciated commemorating all that our precious baby was to us. We were and are still a family, and always will be and that truly, truly matters.

Thanks, kk! Yes, it is “inconsolable grief” isn’t it? Yesterday was one week since Molly’s death. Although I don’t feel like I’m going to go mad with pain now, the pain still feels as intense. And I still feel as though I wish I were dead. –and, it does help being able to say that!!!! I told a good friend here in town that I just wish I were dead and she really didn’t like me saying that. But that’s how I feel!!! I need to say it—and I still do wish I were just dead…the pain of loss is so horrible. I do believe—in my head—that it will “get better.” I do. But what I also know is that right now, the pain still feels unbearable. Thank you for your words and your hope.

Ten days. Today a friend, who is out of town travelling, sent me an email and asked if I'd like to get together Friday of next week to "catch up." I wrote back saying no, I didn't think I wanted to plan anything. But I'm thinking "...are you crazy?!! I'm sick with grief, I don't want to 'catch up'...I could care less about 'catching up.'" I feel like a zombie, like a shell of who I was, lifeless and I couldn't care less about anything. I understand that some people apparently are able to just "move on" when they lose a beloved pet--I don't quite get it, and I almost envy them, that they get a 'pass card' on all this grief. And, conversely, they seem to be clueless, utterly clueless, no idea, about my pain.

So, I have to say, after ten days I don't feel that black, black, black, blinding pain--the red/white hot searing pain that had me begging to die. But, I also have to say that the utter emptiness, loneliness, pain and longing I feel from missing Molly isn't a whole lot better. I still wake up in the morning dreading another day. Dreading. Wondering how I'm ever going to really "go on" on a long term basis. It's really becoming sort of a feeling of despair. No one could have ever told me how painful this was going to be--if they had, I likely would not have believed them.

I bought an urn pendant today. I think it'll give me some wee measure of comfort to have some of Molly's ashes with me, that I can wear on my person.

I am thinking this may be the way it will be for a goodly while...who knows? Months? Many, many months? I tell myself that Molly is gone now, she's in a "better place"--wherever that is, does her consciousness continue? is she somehow aware of her transition? in any case, she's not suffering, she's not the one left behind in pain, so good for her. But it's true, I've heard others say this, I do hear something and turn thinking I'll see her, I look at the glass door waiting for her to show up. And the pain just wells up inside. Oh what a horrible thing for a person to have to go through.

Hi, Snapdragon, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. Each person's grief journey is different, but please let me try to reassure you that what you are feeling is very normal deep grief when you share with us: "I also have to say that the utter emptiness, loneliness, pain and longing I feel from missing Molly isn't a whole lot better. I still wake up in the morning dreading another day. Dreading. Wondering how I'm ever going to really "go on" on a long term basis. It's really becoming sort of a feeling of despair." Ten days is just the beginning of this grief adjustment journey, Snapdragon, but I promise you one day when you least expect it you WILL begin to find a peace in your heart which will replace the current feelings of despair and dreading the days. As your deep grief eases you will be able to focus more easily on the many treasured memories you and your beloved Molly Rose share.

Until this time comes for you, Snapdragon, please remember we are here for you for as long and as often as you need us.

I hope today is treating you kindly, Snapdragon, and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Molly Rose's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

I really feel your pain and all I can say is that I know you were a great Mom and your sweet pet loved you for being that way. I still have a huge void in my life because I lost my pet also. It is the worst pain in the world that only a pet lover would understand. Puppy's Mom

Thank you, puppy, for your comments, they are very appreciated! Yes! it is sooo painful!

Two weeks tomorrow. I look at the clothes I was wearing when we took Molly into the vet on her last day...I don't know if I can wear them again. Sounds silly, but they are a reminder of that day.

I am looking for a therapist to see here in town. This is feeling just SO painful, and I am afraid that it's just going to feel this way forever, so maybe some grief counseling will help. I have a huge fear, though, of getting someone who really doesn't "get it." If so, I'd just not go back. Hearing someone who doesn't really get it, actually makes it worse.

I feel so exhausted. I really can't look at pictures of Molly right now. If I can keep thoughts of her at bay, if I can work at it, I can not cry all day. But the tear and pain are always just under the surface. And it's all the harder to be around friends who don't understand. I just feel so, so, so, so sad. SO sad.

Dear Molly's mum,

I, too, have not worn the dress and the cardigan I wore that fateful night when I took my George to ER. I remember thinking that night 'oh, I should look decent and presentable in the hospital for George' although I was in a super hurry to get him to ER. It was 10 pm and I was in my pyjamas. I took out that new grey dress very quickly to get changed.

I can't look at those clothes. I will never wear them again.....I don't know why I didn't throw them away. It maybe that deep down I want to hold onto that guilt and painful memory of that night. I didn't know then.....it would be his last time at home alive. I still see the scene with me in that dress with George following me out to the car. I never imagined that would be our last night together at home. He came home 5 days later, dead. I re play that night over and over. Can't help. I miss him so much that I feel my heart is going to explode. I wish it did.

Tears and hugs to you

George's mum

George's mum,

Thanks, George's mum! You so totally get it. Yes, I'm not sure why I haven't thrown those clohes out. And, for me too, as with you, I didn't know that when I was taking Molly to the vet, that it would be the last time. I thought I'd be taking her home with some meds, for a respitory infection, or some such thing--I didn't expect to find lung cancer, lungs full of fluid and less than a week to live. It's just all SO painful. And now, I see a little bit of her kitty litter on the floor in the upstairs bathroom, in "her" bathroom, which I missed cleaning up and now I don't want to clean it up, I just want to leave it there, who knows, maybe even thinking she may come back. Crazy, but I look at those few grains of litter on the floor and my heart just breaks. Why is it that we love these furry babies so much!!! The memories are sooo hard, aren't they?

And I think of the afternoon we took her into the vet, that last day. I'd been really busy for the several days before...had I known we were going to lose her, I'd have cancelled everything to spend that time with her. I don't think of myself as someone who's prone to drama, but geeze, when I think of her, I feel like my heart is just being ripped out of my chest, it just hurts SO much. Thank you for listening. - Molly Rose's mom

Hi, Snapdragon, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing, and your and your beloved Molly Rose's two week angel-versary today. Please let me try to reassure you that what you are feeling and experiencing is very normal deep grief - - very painful emotionally and physically, yes - - still very normal.

There are no "rules" in what you "need to do" in terms of cleaning up. Leave the kitty litter on the floor for as long as you need to. Don't wear the clothes you wore - - fold them up and put them away in a storage box if looking at them is a painful constant reminder.

Sometimes seeking professional counseling can be very helpful when we are experiencing a traumatic event - - and the physical loss of a beloved companion does qualify as a traumatic event. When you call to make an appointment with a counselor please feel free to ask if the counselor has training in bereavement for a beloved companion - - or pet counseling. Some counselors have "specialty" areas, and bereavement counseling for a beloved companion is one of them. I hope you will be able to find a counselor with whom you feel comfortable and who is responsive to your sorrow. Please let us know how things go, Snapdragon - - whatever you feel comfortable sharing with us.

I hope today is treating you kindly, Snapdragon, and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Molly Rose's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Thanks Moon Beam. I wonder who you are. How you keep supporting us, all of us. You are truly a blessing.

Thank you for your recent words of encouragement. I think this group is a life-line to me right now. I kind of feel guilty because I don't have a lot to give, just a big blubbering world of hurt.

I just started dinner. I stepped outside for a minute...it rained earlier...the sun is out now. I looked at the side of the house, at a place behind some shrubs, where Molly used to lay in the summer months, for hours on end. I used to go outside and spot her and say "what's baby do'in?" and smile and know that she was so enjoying just being outside on a warm day. How can I ever look at that spot again and not feel pain? I "know"....intellectually, that given time, in my time, that things "should" get "better." But it surely is hard to believe right now. Right now, two weeks after losing Molly, the pain feels as sharp as that day. Sometimes I kind'a, sort'a think, ok, yeah, it's going to be ok, but then a minute later, a smack down, another punch in the gut, another "I just wanna die" moment. Moments. I just have to believe this horrid pain will pass, for surely I could not live a lifetime of this (which is how it feels at the moment).

Tomorrow I'm going to have coffee with probably my closest friend here in town. She's a caring person, compassionate, but she doesn't "get" my intense feeling of loss over Molly. So, I think I'm going to tell her I really, really miss Molly, and tell her it's been hard, but I just don't think--no, I know--I can't be totally honest with her. She just doesn't understand, and I surely don't want that feeling from someone who doesn't understand. So I will not fully disclose my feelings.

I read some of what others post here. It does help to not feel so alone in this kind of grief, but then I usually break down crying....that may be good, I don't know. But so many broken hearts out there. And I'm sure this is just a drop in the bucket. I've always been somewhat sensitive to others' pain, not sure why, but this whole experience, and reading others' stories.... I pray for the day that I don't which I was dead.

Two weeks. It feels like yesterday, and it also feels like an eternity. I've had moments, usually when distracted with something, where I seem to find some relief from the crushing pain of loss. When I think maybe...maybe, maybe, maybe I can survive this. But then a crushing wave of grief washes over me--again. I think of Molly and just ache to touch her. I cry a cry that is pure pain...

I was watching the news tonight, watching about the mud slide in Washington State that has killed many people, with many more missing. I think about the grief of those families and then I feel a little embarrassed by the intensity of my grief for Molly. The missing Malaysian jet. People who have lost spouses, parents, family members. I have accepted that it's normal to feel such grief for the loss of a pet, but when I see these terrible tragedies, I think twice.

But still, I miss Molly Rose more than words can express. I almost feel I'm living in some alternate universe, that this isn't real and that Molly will be there again, when I wake up in the morning. It feels impossible to imagine life without her in it. And the grieving just feels bottomless.

Hi, Snapdragon, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. I truly wish there were an easier way to navigate this grief adjustment journey, but unfortunately I do not have any miraculous words to say that can take away the deep sorrow that is in your heart right now. The only thing I can offer you is my sincerest friendship hoping somehow it will offer you some measure of comfort, support, encouragement, and hope as you travel your adjustment journey.

First I want to reassure you that YOUR loss of your beloved Molly Rose is no less tragic than what other people endure through other tragic circumstances. It is because of the love bond you and your beloved Molly Rose share that you are able to feel for others in their moment of loss and grief - - even during a time when YOUR heart is also filled with deep sorrow.

I also want to reassure you that this deep sorrow will eventually ease, and one day you will be able to look out into your garden and smile remembering how your beloved Molly Rose enjoyed her garden. You may even feel her sweet Living Spirit there with you - - you may even catch a glimpse of her laying in her favorite spot. Does this mean you will stop missing her? No, - - but I promise you the deep intense pain of not having her physically with you will eventually ease so that you can focus on - - and enjoy - - the many treasured memories you and your beloved Molly Rose share.

It is sad when some of the people who are closest to us emotionally and geographically are not as supportive as we need them to be. This is one of the many reasons why this wonderful forum is here as a safe place where we can come to be among others who truly DO understand what we are feeling. Please know we are here for you, with you, and beside you, Snapdragon, through every step of your grief adjustment journey for as long and as often as you need us.

I hope today is treating you kindly, Snapdragon, and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Molly Rose's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Hi - This forum caught my eye - and especially your post. As, I, too, lost my beloved cat Mission on Tuesday, March 11th. Not sure exactly how old he was, but think somewhere between 14 - 15. I, too, like you, have been suffering severe grief and am devastated over losing him.

Mission came into my life as a sickly stray farm cat full of parasites and with a bad respiratory infection at another time when I was losing my other beloved cat of 21 years. He needed help and I needed distraction and comfort and so we bonded together, I took him in, nursed him back to health and he helped ease my pain and grief over the loss of my other cat. There was always something special and mystical about how he came wandering around right at that time when I had lost her. And, so...I felt he had been sent on a mission. Hence...his name.

Since 2010 though we had been battling with Inflammatory Bowel Disease. (And I firmly believe it all started with the severe parasite infestation he had as a young cat when I rescued him.) I was taking him to a specialist/internist over these past few years and spent thousands of dollars on him on diagnostics and treatments/meds to try to help him. I would do it all over again for one as special as him, if I had to. We never really knew if it may have progressed to Lymphoma. He had 2 endoscopies but both biopsies did not pick up on any cancer cells, just inflammatory lymphocytes.

He was on Pred (steriod) off and on in the beginning and then we had to increase it to daily PLUS add in Leukeran - chemotherapeutic agent. It held him for a while. His pancreas also wasn't functioning properly so I had to give him enzyme supplement as well. I constantly fought to keep up his weight and appetite and also fought the loose stools and vomiting. This poor cat was on so much medication and I would literally pop 3-4 pills one after the other down his throat - sometimes twice a day.

Yet, throughout the entire time, he was the world's BEST most patient little trooper.

In January this year I started noticing weight loss once again, took him in, vet increased Pred dosage and enzymes. Then we tried switching out to a different steriod and that didn't go well. Back to Pred. Then I took him back in Feb. for a good "going over". Bloodwork revealed that now there was some liver involvement, possible heart issue with a heart murmur and mild enlargement of right atrial side of heart, and a progressive anemia as well as severe pancreatic insufficiency. It appeared that his entire body was just breaking down. I knew then that we had lost control and that I was losing hiim - he was losing his valient battle over this horrible disease.

For the next few weeks, I pampered him and fed him all kinds of treats, fresh cooked salmon, hamburger, and whatever he liked. I took him outside on a leash and harness on one nice warm afternoon and thought then it might be his last time outside. But, he actually seemed to rally - seemed more alert and chipper during this time.

I now realize it was his last "hurrah". People have told me that both people and animals dying sometimes have this last little "spurt" of energy right before they go. And, I believe now this is likely what was happening. But, it "teased" me into believing that he was doing better and I might have him around for a while longer.

On Sunday, the 9th of March he seemed to be going to the litter pan constantly and so I though - uh oh, UTI brewing. I watched carefully and he seemed a bit better later in the day. But, something told me on Monday morning when I woke up that I needed to stay home and keep an eye on him. I also made an appt. to bring him in to check on possible UTI on Thursday. But, he seemed to be doing better still that day. I spent the entire day around the house and checking on him, coaxing him to eat, and mind you, I had to give him appetite stimulants pretty frequently during the past few months to keep him eating and interested in his food.

During the afternoon it warmed up into the 60's - and was gorgeous. I decided to take him out again on a leash/harness to let him enjoy some fresh air and sunshine. And, BOY...it was like he was a young healthy cat again. The life sprang back into him and he was THRILLED. He rolled around on the sidewalk, nibbled a blade of grass, sniffed & strolled around, scratched his claws on the railroad tie surrounding the driveway. We spent a good 1/2 hour out, at least, and when I brought him back inside he ran back to the door begging to go out again - I'm thinking SPOILED you! I propped him up in a few open windows after that and he stayed awhile and then would jump down again. I put him back up finally in the bedroom thinking - wow, he sure had a good day today.

That evening after dinner, I fell asleep on the sofa and then went on up to bed late. As I entered the room I noticed him on the bed laying in an awkward position with an anxious expression. At first, I didn't think too much of it and, silly me, decided to give him a his dose of Carafate (coats the stomach) since he was laying there. But, he didn't move much when I gave him the dose and continued with the anxious look. So, I picked him up and set him on the floor that's when I saw it.

He was crippled on his right front and right hind legs and could not walk/hold himself up. He had had a CVA (stroke or clot.) I remember feeling at the time this calm sense of reality that "oh no, this was it, my baby - your time has come."

Through the rest of the night I curled up with him in bed and kept telling him that it was alright to go and that I'd be OK and that we'd see each other again at the Bridge one day. I didn't cry and was very calm and reassuring to him throughout the night and he seemed reasonably comfortable. He struggled once in an effort to get up, but simply couldn't. I realized he likely needed to potty. So, I took him to the litter pan and, bless his sweet heart, he peed and pooped for me as I support him - otherwise he would have been face down in the pan unable to stand. I set him down by his food and water bowls and he seemed confused looked back and forth at them, sniffed briefly but just lay there uninterested and kind of in a "daze".

I snuggled with him the remainder of the night talking to him. Got little to no sleep as I knew what faced me in the morning. I called the vet and she gave me a little more time to spend with him that morning, Tuesday, the 11th. I layed down on the floor with him on his cushion and continued talking to him and reassuring him and asking him to let me know when he got to the Bridge and made it safely over. At one point he looked up and out the window at the cypress trees blowing in the warm wind and then his gaze shifted up to the sky. I asked him if he saw "the light" or saw the bridge and if he was ready to go....shortly after that, the vet arrived and I saw the process through to the end.

Since then, although I know he had a wonderful last day on earth...and I feel happy about the fact that I was able to give that to him, and I did my very best to help him with his disease, I am STILL devastated over his loss. He was my earth angel and was an "old soul". Just the sweetest most patient and adoring cat you could ever ask for. I miss him terribly. I've tried doing all the right things to get through the grieving. But, I still bawl my eyes out every day. I have a memorial set up in the room with his pictures, flowers, etc. It may or may not be helpful, I'm not sure. But, I knew I had to set that up in his honor. There will just NEVER EVER be another cat in my life like him.

I totally understand your grief. Some of my friends have been wonderful about this (And some whom I thought would be more supportive have not) But, one got me a book called, "Going Home: Finding Peace When Pets Die" by Jon Katz. It is really really good, and you might want to find a copy and read it. What really hit me was the chapter titled "The Perfect Day". He describes basically what he did with his dog who was dying - gave him the "perfect day" and a few weeks later the dog passed. I realized that I had instinctively somehow knew to do this for my Mission - it just happened that way, as he described...only it was that very last day and then the stroke hit him.

And so, I feel that Mission left my life in just the same special way as he came into my life and I will NEVER EVER forget it....

OnAMission,

Your story is heartbreaking! I am so, so sorry for your loss. Your beautiful baby, you describe him sooo well. You were such a very, very good mom to him!!! He was such a lucky boy to have you.

And it does feel, doesn't it, as if you're heart has just been ripped out of your chest?! I can tell from your writing that Mission was your everything...you baby, your best friend, and such a giving kitty.

I rescued my Molly from the shelter and, like your Mission, she had a severe respiratory infection, wouldn't even drink water. Had we not nursed her back to health, I have no doubt she would not have lived. And I have often thought of that...that we were able to save her, somehow that made the relationship even that more special (if that's even possible).

The heartbreak, the heart ache is just beyond words though, isn't it?

Thank you for sharing your story about Mission.

-Molly's mom

A friend had been after me to meet her for coffee. I finely relented and met her at a coffe shop today. Early on she asked me about Molly, and at the mere mention of Molly’s name I burst into tears. Up to that moment I was “ok.” She was really understanding and it took a minute to gain my composure.

OnAMission posted, on KatyR’s page “It Happened So Fast,” that she’s unable to sleep in her bed without her Mission there. I have that same feeling about being in our house, especially the sofa. I cannot now sit in the same place on the sofa where I used to sit in the morning, having coffee, with Molly sitting on my lap—every morning. I can’t sit there now. EVERYwhere I go in the house, I expect to see Molly…meowing at me, snuggling with me, “demanding” her bedtime snack. She was as the breathe I breathed every day. That is SO how I feel about her as I think of her….she was SO much a part of my life and gave me SUCH joy and pleasure (and I spoiled her rotten back!!). I try to block out the pain much of the time, simply so I can get through the day….get through another day without her….but the pain is still so there, still SO deep.

Am having a particularly hard time of it right now. I think I'm trying to "keep a stiff upper lip"....but the pain is breaking through. I am able to go through my day without crying (for the most part....but when I do cry, I'm fine with it, I just cry); I think to others I might seem mostly "ok," maybe a little bit low energy, but somewhat like myself. But inside I just wonder what I'm doing, going through the motions of a typical day--the world just seems like some place that I just don't want to be.

My hubby, thought I really believed he loved Molly very much, is simply not grieving her like I am. He is giving me a lot of space, but still, I feel pretty much alone. I overheard him tell his cousin "...she doesn't deal with death very well." I don't know that it'd death, per se, but just the I SOOO miss my Molly. I miss her horribly. I miss her in a way that is beyond words. Y'all know.

Over the weekend I didn't get out of bed until after noon! Even then, honestly, if my husband weren't around I think I'd just stay in bed all day. My energy level is zilch! I just don't want to do anything. I knit, and we have a family wedding to go to at the end of May, and I offered to knit a lace wrap for the mother-of-the-bride, so that's about all I do. I have a novel I started before Molly died, and I thought getting into that would distract me, but I just can't even pick it up. Every minute of every day just seems pointless, empty and devoid of any joy or pleasure whatsoever. I feel like I'm just waiting....waiting for something to change, waiting for the pain to ease up, waiting for....whatever. Any and all joy has completely left my life.
I’m normally not “into” drama. I gravitate towards equanimity. But losing Molly has completely knocked me down to my knees.

Snapdragon, my friend, it's Mission's Mom. I just read your last post. My heart aches for you and feels your same pain. I'm so sorry you had a rough weekend. Believe me, my weekends, too, have been so very hard and depressing since losing my sweet butterfly boy.

I wish I could give you a big hug right now in hopes it will make you feel better.

Some others close to us don't always understand the depths of our grief. I spoke to my sister BRIEFLY last night and mentioned again my excrutiating pain. I was just in no mood to talk to her and the conversation was cryptic. She mentioned she saw I had joined this forum and that was good as she joined a bereavement group when she lost her son. She asked about my other sick cat and how she was doing - I told her she was great. (NOT - this cat will have to be put to sleep in the near future, as well.) But, I feel I can no longer divulge my feelings to her since she was so minimally supportive to me through this loss. This other cat is not anywhere NEAR as close to me or special to me as Mission was. Still my sister never even sent me a card....and it would have meant so much to me - that simple gesture.

I'm working through it and have found it DOES help to get up and out to take my mind of it. But, mostly what I've been doing is stuff to do with remembering and honoring Mission.

-I finished the book on pet loss and have ordered a few others that I'll pick up today.

-I wrote a eulogy on the front page to Mission.

-I went to the jewelry counter at Walmart and purchased several lockets. I've placed Mission's pictures in them and in one I placed a little piece of his hair. I plan to order a nicer locket when I find the right one and have it engraved with his name and place more of his hair in there so I know I will always carry around a little part of him close to my heart wherever I go.

-I've rounded up all the photos I've had of him (none were recent though - in his illness, he looked pretty bad and I did not take any.) I took them, got some single and collage frames and albums and made a memorial from this. I've take a few of these and placed them in strategic locations around the house near or at where the photo was actually taken. So, now I see his sweet little face everywere I go in the house. I have his photo on my phone, and carry a wallet photo in my purse.

-I went to a garden center and purchased an adorable miniature cypress tree (like a bonsai size) but it looks similar to the large cypress trees that are just outside my bedroom window. One of the last things Mission did while laying on his cushion on the floor was to peacefully gaze up at them swaying in the breeze and then up to the sky. I know he saw the Bridge or saw the Light then. So I've made a little mini "fairy" garden in his honor - with this little tree. It has a small bench with a "cushion" on it and I placed a little tuxedo cat figure sitting on the bench along with his favorite "toy" a little white string. There is also a gazing ball on a pedestal nearby - I place the actual large size one next to these large cypress trees every year. So, it was my fantasy creation of Mission in his new life...in his lovely little garden next to the trees that were just outside the bedroom window that he saw in this life.

I'm anxious to find another locket and have been looking at a site called Whispers in the Heart. Maybe this is something you might like, too? Even if you don't have any hair or ashes, you can still put a photo inside.

I never thought about saving any hair from my other beloved cat, Healthcliff, when I lost her at the ripe age of 21 - so I just have her photos that I framed and a lovely watercolor that a local artist friend did for me of her.

But, I've found doing all of this helps me to feel a little more connected with Mission in his Afterlife.....

I'm thinking of you, today, Snapdragon. And, I'm thinking of your beloved Molly Rose....I think she's met Mission and has probably visited him in his little garden under the cypress tree....tears are starting again, now...so I need to close down.

HUGS to you....

Mission’s mom….

Thank you sooo much for your kind words and support. Yes, I guess that’s the way it is….some days are better/worse than others.

I hear what you’re saying about your sister. And yes, it’s protective, when necessary, to not open ourselves up to others who are not understanding of our grief. There are some people, whom I thought of as somewhat close anyway, but when I talk with them now, they don’t even mention Molly or how I’m doing. I do have people who care, are understanding, and really very sympathetic and supportive, so I’m grateful for them, for sure! But I think I’m taken a little by surprise by those who aren’t. But, someone said, and I kind’a know this, that they must have some reason for being that way. Maybe they can’t “deal” with it? –who knows. But it’s still hard.

What is your other cat’s name? the one that will not love too much longer? I’m so sorry that this comes on the heels of losing Mission.

Yes, I should get out more….I just feel like I don’t want to do anything. When I have been out, socially, meeting someone for coffee, shopping, it does seem to take my mind off of it. And I know a lot of others do things, such as you, to remember and honor their loved one. But for me, it is just so, so painful to look at pictures of Molly. They just make me cry. I posted a picture of her as my avatar, but it’s making it kind of hard for me to come to the forum. Actually, I kind of don’t want to think of her, because of the sadness it brings me.

But I am trying. I am reading about grief—grief in general, I find is being helpful. Grief, I am coming to believe, is grief. Pet, friend, family member, no difference. When someone feels like a part of your very being, and you lose them, a part of yourself is gone. So, I read. I don’t really feel like being social right now. I know I need to “get out” more.

Your eulogy to Mission was beautiful. Really. He was really lucky to have you as a mom!!

Like you, I also bought some remembrance jewelry. I bought two pendants. One is a glass one, in which I have put some of Molly’s fur. The other is a silver urn pendant, in which I placed some of her ashes.

I envy you (and not in a “bad” way….just in a “I wish I could too” way) that you can put pictures up of Mission around your house, on your phone… I think it would be so sweet to be able to look at your loved one everywhere you turn. Almost like his presence is there, huh? Looking at pictures of Molly only brings on the tears. Maybe later on I will be able.

Reading about the bonsai sized cypress tree, and your last time with Mission, him looking out the window….I just started crying as I pictured him in my mind. But what a sweet, sweet story you have of your fantasy creation of Mission in his new life. So sweet. Yes, what a sweet thought, of Molly and Mission by the cypress tree.

I sometimes find myself trying to &%^yze my grief. Am I just “giving in” to it? Am I allowing myself to “wallow” in it? Molly has moved on and is no longer in pain, has no more “worldly” concerns…. she is not grieving. She had a good life (very good), and has now moved on. I try to understand why I am grieving so hard for her. Tomorrow (as you know!) is three weeks. It’s still hard for me to imagine a world without this intense pain of longing for her. Her absence is just screaming in my ear. I would really like to feel a little better, but it’s just not there (yet). Well, I guess nothing to do but just get through each day.

Thank you, Mission’s mom, for your care and support. I really do like the thought of our babies playing together under a cypress tree, that is a pleasing thought. Thank you again.

Hi Snapdragon...just wanted to let you know that I just PM'd you. I picked up a few more books today about pets and grieving. One is unusual in the fact that is it a small poetic pictorial type book - like a memento on grieving and loss but comes with a CD of 4 songs. I have to admit I tried playing them on lunch break at work and just burst into tears. NOT the right place or time. But, at some point, I will listen to them...maybe when reading through the book or the other books.

I'm glad you've been reading about grief...and agree, it doesn't matter WHAT you are in grief over...it all amounts to the same emotional turmoil we endure. We have to face your grief and try to work through it the best way we can, personally. No one can really help us with that process. But, just know that we are here to suppport you -- to support each other d understand --as we are all bonded together here on this forum because of the same reason...we've lost a beloved, cherished pet that was such aa part of our being. They WERE a part of us...our family.

Just know, that I'm also having a hard time socializing with others, right now. I know, though, it is not good to isolate myself like that, so I'm trying....

Last night, I lit some candles in my bedroom for Mission - all around his memorial. Miss Molly Rose would probably love for you to do that, too..sometime? Maybe??? When you feel up to it??? I know how hard it is...but, I think she wants to connect to you still...I can see it in her face. And, if this isn't the right way to connect to her, we need to put our heads together and figure out, what IS the right way?

I have to tell you that although I asked Mission to send me a sign that he had made it over the Bridge safely, I haven't really gotten any clear sign, yet. But, the more I remember him, think of him, pray about him and memorialize him, the more comfortable I'm starting to feel that he really IS OK....and he may not send me a sign right away, but it will come in time.

Like you, I MISS HIM TERRIBLY...it's that void of their presence that about KILLS you...but, it is what it is, now. We gave our beautiful babies the last and greatest gift of love....a release from their pain and suffering and their freedom to fly on to another place of peace and comfort like they had at one time with us.

Hugs....

Hello Snapdragon,

I haven't been on the forum for a few days but checked in today and was wondering how you are doing? It's been 2 1/2 months since I lost Ari and it does get easier to get through the days, not easy, but easier. My husband and I are worlds apart
in how we grieve so I understand what you are talking about. People also don't ask me much anymore, not that too many did in the beginning either tho, about my loss. It's ok because if they are good enough friends, I talk about it some anyway. It helps. I don't talk about it in a maudlin way but acknowledge to my friends and family that I still hurt. Sometimes when I do that, it allows them to express their feelings to me and offer support. Sort of opens it up a bit. I have gone to grief counseling and support groups that are pet specific only and I plan on doing that at least once a month. We are getting two new kittens this Friday and I am scared and excited at the same time. I cry almost every day for a little but allow myself to feel the grief when it hits. I have to. If I don't, I know I will never get to a place where I can truly be happy again. We have kept some of Ari's things for his baby brothers to use and while it makes me sad, it also makes me happy to know they will have some part of their older brother with them. I also know it will make me sad AND happy to see them in the places where Ari used to be.

Take care and take care of yourself Snapdragon.

kk - You are so sweet to write. Hearing from you really does help, thank you. Your encouragement is much needed at this time. Early on it's just so hard to ever imagine that your life will be anything other than pure pain, daily. So hearing your words really does offer some encouragement.

I'm excited for you getting your new babies later this week! Really! I hope you post pictures, though I guess I'll need to go over to another section of this forum, huh? I'll have to do that. And that your new babies will be able to use Ari's toys and things, well, that's kind of nice, kind of bitter-sweet. It's so, so good of you to give some new babies a wonderful home--you will be giving them many, many joyful years with you, I'm sure.

Although I have had my experience with people who don't seem to understand, I am fortunate in that I do have a number of very loving, understanding, caring and supportive friends, though they're all out of state. But all are willing to talk whenever I need. So I'm thankful for that. But it has been agony losing her, and that's no exaggeration. But I will hold onto words of hope, such as yours, that I will see an end to this tunnel of grief.

Thank you again for thinking of me and writing. And all the best to your new kids!! Have you picked out names yet?? :-) And are they siblings? I'm very happy for you! --hugs - Molly's mom

I just saw your pics of Miss Molly Rose, Snapdragon...OMG...what a BEAUTIFUL kitty...I am so sad....YES, she and my Mission man would have been quite the pair together....

I am in tears....what a beauty...you were soooo blessed to have had her in your life, Snapdragon....

Snapdragon,

I'm so sorry to hear of your loss. It hurts so badly for sooooo long. I had to put my cat Kaya to sleep last July and I still cry a lot over her loss. The memorial idea is good. I'm glad you got a few. It took me over 6 months before I was ready to let her ashes be used to create a pendant. Now I actually enjoy having people notice my beautiful pendant. It gives me a chance to talk about her. I bought a glass one too and it came out more beautifully than I could have ever expected. I feel like the artist, Mark, really cared about me and my loss. He even requested photos and some stories about Kaya that he could read and focus on while creating her pendant. People like that, and the people here on this forum and other pet loss forums help make it easier. I don't want to advertise for Mark, but do want to share his link in case because he truly cared... http://psychecremationjewelry.com/about/pe...d=Ash_Memorials . I got the sunrise pendant because my cat would wake me up at odd hours licking my nose. Funny how you miss the thing most afterwards when they were slightly annoying at the time.

I hope your pain becomes manageable over time. It's hard and I hurt for you. I'm sorry you and anyone else ever has to go through an experience like this. Big hugs. Hang in there.

Kaya's Companion

Hi Kaya's Companion, and thank you for writing and for your kind words. I am sorry, also, for your loss of Kaya last summer. I can well imagine that the pain still stings all these months later.

I will have to go over and take a look at Mark's work...I was interested in glass too, so I'm glad you included his address.

Yes, you're so right about missing the things that might have slightly annoyed us before. Molly's upstairs litter box, in the upstairs bathroom, of course she was always pushing litter outside of the box and now, well, I'd sooo love to see that litter all over the floor now! :-)

And yes, it is just such a deep, deep pain that seems to have a life of its own. And although I seem to be getting through my days "ok," there is this constant, every second, awareness of that deep, deep loss....and feeling like life is just not the same without Molly here. I just miss her so, SO much.

So, thank you for your again for your kind words and your support and encouragement. It means SO much to have others who understand to reach out to help. -Molly's mom

Right now....I am feeling like I NEVER want to get another pet. I am getting through my days maybe a little bit better, though still not without great pain when I think of Molly Rose. BUT, still, when I think about it, I never, never, never NEVER want to go through this kind of pain again! EVER!!!

DannysMom,

I wish it were true about parrots outliving us. While they do live longer than dogs or cats, their lifespan is actually only around 25-35 years depending on the size and breed. You're right that it's not unusual to hear about some parrots living for much longer, but contrary to what most people think, it's still not very common. I think tortoises are the only critters that have lifespans longer than people, so that might be the best companion for anyone who does not want to go through the agony of losing an animal friend.

My Boogie, a Blue-Fronted Amazon parrot, lived only 27 years (he passed back in October 2013), but I truly thought he would be in my life for many, many more years. It's been over six months since that terrible night and I still haven't recovered from the shock, pain and sadness. It's like a physical weight bearing down on me every waking moment and it doesn't feel like it will ever end. I know exactly where Snapdragon is coming from. I miss Boogie more than words can say. He was my whole life for over a quarter of a century. Nothing really seems to matter and I don't know how to go on without my bird...but, like all the wonderful souls on this forum, we all somehow manage to muddle through day after day.

Hi, Snapdragon, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. Please let me try to reassure you that what you are feeling about the prospects of embracing another companion into your heart and home is very normal, particularly during this very painful deep grief.

Embracing a new companion is a very personal decision. Some people find it comforting to adopt quickly after a loss because having the physical closeness to a new companion - - for them - - helps them as they travel their grief adjustment journey. Some people find it helpful to wait until their deep grief has eased. Some people focus their time and energies on pet sitting for family members and friends, volunteering in their local rescue shelters, and / or participating as a foster parent until the homeless waifs can find a Forever Home. And some people decide to never embrace another companion in their heart and home - - for various reasons.

Fortunately embracing a new companion into your heart and home is not a decision you have to make at this time - - or anytime soon. It is a decision that only YOU can make as you feel it is appropriate - - and it is a decision you are free to CHANGE at any time as you feel appropriate. The bottom line is this: whatever decision you make at whatever point in time will be the RIGHT DECISION for YOU.

I hope today is treating you kindly, Snapdragon, and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Molly Rose's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

It's been over three weeks now. For me it's now "Tuesdays" when I think of Molly. I dread Tuesdays, the day of the week we lost her.

I do seem to be moving through my days a little better--whatever that means. But still, inside I feel as dead as can be. I find joy in nothing. Right or wrong, good or bad, I actually try to not think of Molly that much (which is kind’a impossible, really, she's just always "there"). I looked at her picture as my avatar right now and I just feel that knife go through my heart. I would probably best describe my life right now as feeling utterly empty, and permeated by sadness. I feel quite fragile right now and mostly don't want to be around people. I really feel like I mostly just exist right now.

Snapdragon...please know I am thinking of you, and feel sooooo much of the same pain and numbness...like Gretta's Mom had said just going through the "mechanics" of life like a robot. Yes....Tuesdays....wow...I will never forget. Also, weird...My father died on the 11th (it was actually Sept. 11th - but not 2001.)

I took off today as I am not dealing well with this and work together. It was a sad day for me too, though I was able to get a few more pictures copied and found a nice pot for Mission's memorial cypress fantasy garden.

I just posted some comments on the other Memorial/tribute forum and another pic of Mission there plus a strange occurrance that happened this morning. I'll relay it again, here.

I had gone into the bedroom (Mission's room) this morning to get a few things and my big black cat, Miner, must have followed me in. I had no idea he had entered the room and so when I left, I closed the door behind me and he was closed in. I went out for a few hours and when I returned and entered the room, out dashed Miner --- in a panic, as if he's literally "seen a ghost"!! I thought WOW...I wonder if he had been visited by my Mission?? (He and Mission had actually been good buds for a while when it was just the two of them in my house after I first moved in.) Miner was the next one I rescued/brought in and they got along OK...until I started bringing other cats in and Mission decided he just didn't like being in the "crowd".

Anyway, I looked around the room and the area around my vanity that I had set up as a memorial for Mission was disturbed and in disarray. Cards and photos albums knocked over or misplaced and the Cat Fancy calendar was on the floor. I'm thinking Mission might have beat up Miner during the visitation???

I had asked Mission to send me a sign when he got over the Bridge safely. So, could this be????

Well, it was all a bit bizarre, if you ask me. But, let me just say, Snapdragon, your Molly Rose is WITH you, she is your angel and she'll be following you around and visiting with you. Just as you will always keep her close in your heart, she WILL be there close to you.

My thoughts are with you....Hugs!!! ***X


Mission's Mom

Thanks, Mission's mom. Wow, that is a strange story...who knows, eh? Thanks (again) for your ever-so kind thoughts. I'll have to go over and look for your other posting. Yeah...going through the mechanics. Nice that you took the day off...that'll give you a three-day weekend... hugs...and hoping you have a nice (as nice as possible) weekend!! **hugs**
-Molly's mom

Well, I am now in my second month of mourning Molly's passing. I feel like I would give ANYthing to have her back. Her absence has left a hole in my heart and my life. For me, although I don't feel like I'm trying to "stuff" my feelings, I do actually try not to dwell on her...when I see the chair she used to nap in, I don't allow myself to imagine her being there, I try to immediately divert my attentions to something else. To think of her all the time, to focus on her, would make it impossible. I miss her more than words can say, I miss my baby girl SOOOO much, it still hurts so, so very horribly when I do allow myself those moments to bring her to life in my mind. And I still feel like I could never, ever have another fur-friend again because the pain of their loss is torture--just so, so, SO painful. I will give money to help support other animals and take care of disadvantage animals, but I don't think I could EVER bear this kind of loss again in my lifetime.

Of course you would give anything to have her back, what a beautiful girl she was, you could see that she was a beautiful soul in her eyes. She looks a bit cheeky. I think you just do whatever you can do, don't be hard on yourself and just keep on keeping on. One day you will be able to look back and smile about the good times which I am sure there were many! I feel the same as you, I don't think I could ever have another pet agin either - the loss is just too much to bear right now.

Thanks---ha! yes, I guess you could say she could be a little cheeky at times. We had such a great balance of give 'n take, she and I; she was such a wonderful buddy, and I spoiled her rotten! Thank you for your comments. This grieving business is just hellish, isn't it, beyond anything I might have imagined. Thanks again for stopping by.