Medusa
09-30-2008, 08:49 PM
How wonderful it is to know that I have such caring friends who would take the time to reach out through the miles to comfort someone whom they've never met and probably never will. It's been like a healing balm to me.
Everywhere I turn, I keep looking and listening for Puddy, either to meet her fiery eyes or hear her paws tapping on the floor or to hear her crunching on some Cat Chow. It was tough applying my makeup this morning because I had become accustomed to seeing her sitting on the countertop, watching me intently as if to say "That's really your color, Mom". Even taking a bath or shower is sad right now because she spent so many of her last days in there. And, of course, when I go to bed and she doesn't hop up there w/me, well, the lump in my throat still hasn't left.
Today when I left the house I called out my standard goodbye to the Fur Posse, telling them where I was going and when I'd be back, finishing up with "Puddy, watch the house for Mommy!" Instant tears. And tonight when I tucked everyone in and said "I love you", I followed up w/another tradition: it sounds like Walton's Mountain as I call out each name one by one: "'Night Peekie, 'night Boo Bear, 'night Pidgie, 'night Cgirl, 'night Speckers, 'night Yodie Yodie, 'night Coco Puff. Puddy's gonna sleep w/Mommy! Right, Pud?" More tears. I let them flow unashamedly. I don't attempt to hold them back because, not only are they healing, they're my way of letting Puddy know that she wasn't "just a cat". She was my Shnorky, my buddy, my bunky and my best friend. Most importantly, she was my teacher. She taught me by example to never ever give up. She surely didn't, and I won't dishonor her 14 years of life by giving up.
The following is a poem that someone sent to me in an email when I was struggling w/my conscience as to whether or not I should help Puddy to the Rainbow Bridge. May it comfort you if and when your hour comes to help your special ones to make that trip. Thank you, my friends, for the collective hand that you all extended to me to ease my pain. A burden shared is a burden lightened.
If It Should Be
If it should be that I grow weak
and pain should keep me from my sleep,
then you must do what must be done,
for this last battle cannot be won
You will be sad, I understand,
Don't let your grief stay your hand
For this day more than all the rest,
your love for me must stand the test
We've had so many happy years,
What is to come can hold no fears
You'd not want me to suffer so
the time has come to let me go,
Take me where my need they'll tend,
And please stay with me until the end
I know in time that you will see
the kindness that you did for me
Although my tail its last has waved,
from pain and suffering I've been saved
Please do not grieve, it must be you
who had this painful thing to do
We've been so close, we two, these years
Don't let your heart hold back its tears
Author unknown
Everywhere I turn, I keep looking and listening for Puddy, either to meet her fiery eyes or hear her paws tapping on the floor or to hear her crunching on some Cat Chow. It was tough applying my makeup this morning because I had become accustomed to seeing her sitting on the countertop, watching me intently as if to say "That's really your color, Mom". Even taking a bath or shower is sad right now because she spent so many of her last days in there. And, of course, when I go to bed and she doesn't hop up there w/me, well, the lump in my throat still hasn't left.
Today when I left the house I called out my standard goodbye to the Fur Posse, telling them where I was going and when I'd be back, finishing up with "Puddy, watch the house for Mommy!" Instant tears. And tonight when I tucked everyone in and said "I love you", I followed up w/another tradition: it sounds like Walton's Mountain as I call out each name one by one: "'Night Peekie, 'night Boo Bear, 'night Pidgie, 'night Cgirl, 'night Speckers, 'night Yodie Yodie, 'night Coco Puff. Puddy's gonna sleep w/Mommy! Right, Pud?" More tears. I let them flow unashamedly. I don't attempt to hold them back because, not only are they healing, they're my way of letting Puddy know that she wasn't "just a cat". She was my Shnorky, my buddy, my bunky and my best friend. Most importantly, she was my teacher. She taught me by example to never ever give up. She surely didn't, and I won't dishonor her 14 years of life by giving up.
The following is a poem that someone sent to me in an email when I was struggling w/my conscience as to whether or not I should help Puddy to the Rainbow Bridge. May it comfort you if and when your hour comes to help your special ones to make that trip. Thank you, my friends, for the collective hand that you all extended to me to ease my pain. A burden shared is a burden lightened.
If It Should Be
If it should be that I grow weak
and pain should keep me from my sleep,
then you must do what must be done,
for this last battle cannot be won
You will be sad, I understand,
Don't let your grief stay your hand
For this day more than all the rest,
your love for me must stand the test
We've had so many happy years,
What is to come can hold no fears
You'd not want me to suffer so
the time has come to let me go,
Take me where my need they'll tend,
And please stay with me until the end
I know in time that you will see
the kindness that you did for me
Although my tail its last has waved,
from pain and suffering I've been saved
Please do not grieve, it must be you
who had this painful thing to do
We've been so close, we two, these years
Don't let your heart hold back its tears
Author unknown