Lessons in Grief ~ Part 7

My last blog post was May 23, 2023. By then, we’d already lost our darling girl cat, Raina.

On June 16, her brother, Watson, passed away. He had my heart like no other animal except the beagle I grew up with, Blaze. For eighteen years, Watson alternately charmed us and wreaked havoc around the house. He could be a total pill one minute and cuddle in my arms the next. I miss him every day.

There are people who won’t understand the bond some of us make with our animals. But I’m here to tell you that opening yourself to a furry little creature creates a vulnerability that rivals any other kind of love. And it hurts just as deeply, or maybe even more, when death cuts it short. I did a quick IG post but couldn’t bring myself to write a blog entry when he passed. It’s still difficult to think about; I teared up just writing the previous paragraph.

Losing the siblings within 6 weeks of each other sent both The Husband and me into depression. There wasn’t a place in our house that didn’t hold their spirits and remind us of their loss. I couldn’t write. There was nothing I wanted to do or see. I haven’t made a social media post since July. We carried on, but the world lost its color.

We were hyper-aware of our two surviving cats. And when Patchwork started having urinary issues, we took her straight to the vet, praying all the way. Thankfully, it was just an infection. But, the next day, my birthday, the vet called to tell us that testing had confirmed she’s diabetic. The first few weeks of twice-daily insulin shots were stressful and educational. We learned she doesn’t need to be held down to administer the shot—crowding her made it harder, not easier. My anxiety of giving her a shot made loading the syringe a nightmare, but I remember thinking that eventually, the entire process would become second nature, and it has. I think Patchwork knows that the little jab makes her feel better, so she calmly lays down on my pillow for her shot now and rarely gives us any trouble.

In early August, I had a dental emergency that’s resulted in a full bottom denture implant. August 9, I had surgery that took several days to recover from. I have a fairly high threshold of pain, but the lethargy is what brought me down. Not to mention the bill! I’m limited to soft foods (scrambled eggs, rice, ice cream, tuna and canned chicken, refried beans, etc.) but I found I can also let Junior Mints and Reese’s Pieces melt in my mouth. LOL. The dentist said I wouldn’t like the temporary denture. He was right. I haven’t had the patience to learn to eat with it, so I only wear it for show… I’m hoping to get the permanent denture around Christmas.

On September 5, we had another prayerful emergency vet visit, this time with Junior. He’d had a urinary blockage five years before and we were noticing urinary issues again. Sure enough, even though we’d been feeding him a commercial urinary tract kibble, he had another blockage. Surgery and a night at the vet. Then we were told treatment had to be less aggressive because of a suspected enlarged heart. Worry times a thousand! We treated him at home with four different meds, all administered by mouth. That wasn’t fun for any of us… He slowly started feeling better, but the heart issue loomed large. We finally got an echocardiogram appointment and, huzzah! He’s just a big boy, and the test showed no enlargement at all!  

Chewy really loves us now since both Patchwork and Junior are on prescription food and treats!

Just when things started looking up (life had thrown a few other challenging and ongoing things our way), someone expertly scammed us in the parking lot of a grocery store on October 20th. While in line at the check stand, an old man handed me a $10 bill, saying it had dropped from my purse. I’d just gotten ten dollars in change at the gas station, so I believed it was mine. Later, in the parking lot, I’d thought about it and remembered that I’d put the bill in my wallet, so the ten was his. When he walked up to us, I reached into my purse to give him back the bill. He started talking gibberish and reached into my purse with the bill across his fingers. We finally got him to walk away. He stood across the aisle from us, looking blank. We left but stopped a few blocks away because I had a bad feeling. I took out my wallet and my debit card was gone. He’d lifted it right in front of our eyes! I pulled up my banking app on my phone and shut the card off. I learned later that he’d gone across town and tried to use it, but we’d foiled him. Now I keep everything zipped up tight and since I’m sure he saw me input my PIN at the counter, I always use my hand to shield the machine. And I bought an emergency alarm for my keyring. It was definitely a rude awakening.

We all react differently to life’s challenges and sorrows. The last six months have been devastating and stressful. Every month brought some new heartache or distress, one thing on top of another. We were always waiting for the next catastrophe. It started with loss and we continued to live in a dark place for a long time.

But light is peeking through the cracks. I’d begun to half-heartedly edit my novella. I bought an online system for writers this week to begin a serious edit, plus I’m feeling excited about working on the second draft of my mystery. The Husband is planning some short videos for the holiday season and beyond. We’ve been coming up with day trips around Southern California to get out of the house and have some fun. I went to an art fair last weekend and did a little retail therapy.

In this dumpster fire of a world we’re living in these days, it’s a wonder how any of us survive with our sanity intact. Author Elise Bryant has a wall hanging in her office that says Joy is an Act of Resistance. The Husband and I are ready to find the joy again. Hope you’ll come along with me and keep checking I’m Writing as Fast as I Can and visit me on Instagram @graymare725.