I'm really tired tonight. I got up stupid early and stayed out most of the day. By the time I got home, my all the stuff hurt. Things were fun though and things were nice at home. That's the really tragic thing about a death, isn't it? It's horrible and the loss hurts, but even as things still hurt, things also still move on. Grief takes a lot out of you and after a while, you just have to find the peace or go crazy.
My roommate and I have been through this before. This is the fourth cat we've collectively lost. I suppose that isn't surprising considering we take in the ones people didn't want. Some of those were pretty bad off when they were adopted. It's never easy to lose one, but you learn how to comfort yourself about it. Kitty old age can be difficult. I'm glad Rhiannon isn't hurting anymore. I'm glad she isn't confused or lost. I miss her, but I'm glad she isn't in pain.
Tonight my roommate teased one of the other cats about how she needed to be more remarkable so we'd remember her when she was gone. He wasn't serious, but it was a nice segue into us discussing the standout qualities of the cats who have gone. The thing about loving someone is that your memories are tied to so many things. You love the good things about them, the bad things, the annoying things, the odd quirks. All of it matters. All of it is important.
One of the things that I know to be true about my life is that the people who love me love me for all of those reasons. I mean, hell, if I was just loved for the good parts, I'd probably come up wanting. But I'm loved for my darkness and my oddness as well. People see my weaknesses, my selfishness, the places where my spirit is small. They love me anyway. This is a blessing.
No comments:
Post a Comment