Heart on the mend

My heart is raw with grief over the loss of Willy.  The two weeks since his death have been so very difficult.  The tears have been either free flowing, or just under the surface ready to start running, which they do more often than not.  I am able to control them a little better though when I'm somewhere other than at home.

My routines have been shaken. Willy isn't there to wake me up in the morning by stepping on my hair until I give in and get up.  When I do get up, there's no need to get his breakfast ready, the house is silent, and still.  Too still.  Chris is still sleeping and I'm so alone, so very alone, missing my baby boy.  I try to stay on my loose schedule for getting ready for work.  10 - 15 minutes are cut off my time, there's no litter box to scoop, no water bowls to fill, no hair ball paste to give, no treats to give, no medication to give, no little boy to pick up and love on before I head out the door to work.  There's only a spot beneath the trees in the back yard to look at, and to tell my little boy that Mama loves him and to be a sweet boy.  That's what I told him every time I left the house.

When I come home, there's no supper to feed my little boy.  When I go to bed, he's not there to go with me and make biscuits at the foot of the bed, or lie on my side, or my chest.

I miss those things.  I miss watching Willy enjoying the back porch, and getting out there through the cat door Chris installed.  I miss seeing him sitting at the big door waiting for someone to open it for him because he didn't want to be bothered to use the cat door. I bought this house so Willy could have a screened in porch.

The lizards are safe now without Willy on the prowl.

I miss the way he'd come stand on my lap top when he wanted attention.

I miss the way he'd be waiting for me when I'd come out of the bathroom.

I miss giving him catnip, and watching him enjoy it.

I miss watching him sharpen his claws on the scratcher.

I miss watching him play with his toys, that boy loved his toys.

I miss seeing him stretched out on the floor.

I miss seeing him enjoying the swing.

I miss seeing him lying on the bench, or in the sunlight.

I miss seeing him go to a sunny spot in front of the window in the mornings after he'd eat his breakfast.

I miss catching him on the counter top or on the table, where he knew he wasn't supposed to be.  I miss the expression on his face when I'd catch him.

I miss his purr.

I miss scooping him up and giving him kisses.

I miss the feel of his fur.

I miss him running to the pantry every time I would walk through the house, and him talking to me as he ran ahead of me.

I miss giving in and giving him a treat most times he "asked".

I miss him showing up just as we are about to sit down at the dinner table, his timing impeccable.

I miss how he used to sit right next to me, in his chair, waiting patiently on the next morsel.

I miss his meow.

I miss him, I miss Willy, my little boy who I loved for 12 years and 2 months, who I continue to love even though his body isn't here.

I miss so much more.

I'm glad to say that there are some things that I don't miss.  I don't miss hemobartonellis, I don't miss chondrosarcoma, I don't miss diabetes,  and most of all, I don't miss hemangiosarcoma.

I am glad that Willy is at peace, free of pain, free of suffering, free of feeling badly.  I am glad that we had 129 days after the tumor was first seen on x-ray to love him.  I know that I did everything I possibly could to give him as much good quality of life possible.  I know that Chris did everything he could.

I felt, and I do still feel so helpless against those tiny microorganisms that wreaked havoc on his small body.  I'm so angry that Willy was dealt such an awful hand.  I think he handled everything that was thrown at him like a champ.  Everyone at every vet appointment we took him to, talked about how sweet and lovable he is.  It warms my heart to know that others feel the same way I do about him.  I am so lucky to have so many people who care about Willy, and about me and Chris, and about what we've been through.  We have an amazing support system.

My heart is slowing mending, although it will never be complete.  Someone said to me that I have a Willy shaped spot in my heart, that only he can fill. 

Grief is a horrible thing, it is overwhelming.  I don't ever want to experience it again.