It feels sometimes like I’m starting to feel a little better, that some of the rawness is easing a little, and that maybe there’s some light at the end of the tunnel somewhere. And then, all of a sudden, that disappears and I’m back to feeling pretty desolate again. I’ve been looking at pictures of Stan and they make me smile. They make me smile with a big helping of sadness just now, but I’m smiling nonetheless. In the cupboard where we keep the mugs in the kitchen, up on the top shelf, is an “I love my cat” mug that is personalised with his photograph. It makes me smile and think how I love him, but it also puts a big ol’ lump in my throat just now too.
This morning I went into the utility room for something or other, which is where the box that my wife has put all his possessions inside still sits on the counter. It’s sad to look at that, but this morning it was the draining-board beside the sink that got me. It’s where we laid his body wrapped in a towel after we brought him back to the house after the accident. One glance and the terrible feeling of loss came back in an instant and there I was, blubbing again. I’m still beating myself up about the things I might have done differently and that would have changed events. It’s very hard not to do so.
I think the tears help. They release the pain and allow me to function, like the overspill on a dam they stop me breaking further. I don’t know if people think that it’s soppy for a grown man to be wearing his heart on his sleeve like this, but I’m finding that it helps to talk about how I’m feeling. I think that, day by day, it will get easier, and at some point my guilt will instead be that I’ve not cried or felt as sad, and that somehow that means I don’t care as much anymore. But that won’t be the case, I’ll never not care, it’s just the healing process.
I spent some time today reading a cat-owners thread on the web forum I frequent. I’ve spoken about Stan’s loss on there and how I’m feeling. I searched the thread today looking for posts from other people who had lost their cats in similar circumstances. I’m not sure if that seems weird, but I find that there is comfort to be taken from shared experiences in cases like this. Knowing we’re not alone in what we are going through makes the experinece a little less lonely somehow. That other people felt similar sadness, loss, and guilt when they lost their cats makes me realise that these are normal emotions (even though I already knew this anyway). I guess you take your comfort where you can find it.
I’ll close the blog today with another photo of Stan being Stan. We bought a new toaster a few weeks ago for our new kitchen and I left some of the polystyrene packaging on the table. It didn’t take long for Stan to find his new place to sit. 🙂 xxx