It's been 5 days since we lost Kisa. I knew I would be sad and I knew it would be hard after she was gone. But, I'm still a little surprised by the intensity of grief I've been feeling. Grieving a human relative or family member is so accepted and after 5 days, it's expected that one would still be grieving.
But, the death of a pet is treated differently. It's minimized.
When you think about it though, the relationship with a pet is sometimes stronger than that of a human. My aunt passed away a year ago from cancer and I was sad. I remembered the family reunions and how she loved to laugh. Growing up, I only saw her once, maybe twice, per year. And as an adult, I think it had been 5 or more years since I last saw her.
But, a pet? You see them every day. They are your daily routine. You get used to seeing them in certain parts of the house. You get used to hearing certain sounds. You know they will greet you at the door or rub against your leg or sleep beside you.
Every day.
When that is taken away, there is an abrupt change to the routine you knew. Upstairs is where Kisa spent most of her time. After a long day of work or after the kids are in bed, I often lay in bed and watch TV, write, search the internet, etc. Every night, Kisa would come in, give me the same greeting of "Meow" and lay beside me. When it was time for bed, she would snuggle up against me, right in the crook of my arm.
Every. Single. Night.
I've felt lost the last 5 nights. I keep expecting to see her. To hear her sweet greeting. My mind tries to play tricks and for a brief moment, I allow myself to believe that she's just sitting downstairs. She'll come up when she's good and ready. She's an independent cat, after all.
And then that sick feeling washes over me and I know she's not coming. Not tonight. Not ever.
I'm not a complete mess. I'm OK if I'm downstairs or at work. It's just the upstairs. When I hit the top of the stairs and I have to pass by her "room", it's still hard.
I forced myself to put the rest of her things out for the trash tonight. I had been dreading it. In my head, I know it's just a food bowl. A toy. A bag of food. An inanimate object.
But, it was the last piece of her. My last connection. Yet, I still felt guilty putting it by the curb.
The kids still haven't asked about her. They did come upstairs after I took the last of her things outside. They both walked in the room and asked what I was doing in Kisa's room.
It will be her room for awhile.
2 comments:
You do exactly what you need to grieve, screw what anyone else thinks (or what you think others think). Most people have had a pet at some point in their lives that has made a major impact, so I honestly think that most everyone can sympathize. And just like grieving the loss of a person you are close to, I think each day will get a little bit easier. But you'll still have times when the pain comes back as if the loss just happened. Sending big hugs your way and hope you get joy from all the sweet memories you have of your purrrfect kitty!
My deepest condolences on your lost. On Dec. 12th we put down our kitty Jasmine, who had been our faithful companion for 18 years. I have felt this loss so much harder than I ever would have guessed, and have felt very conflicted because this hurts more than the passing of my grandmother, who passed on Thanksgiving. I agree, it is the empty spaces that our pets leave behind that are the hardest. Every day for so many years she would come and greet me at the door when I come home, and so every day it stings when she isn't there.
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