Monday, July 21, 2008


(Edited, ca. 8 pm: yeah, it's pretty incoherent. I had just gotten the news (my dad e-mailed me - I suppose he didn't trust himself to tell me over the phone, what with the familial dislike of strong emotions and all.) I'm not angry...that stage of grief (and guilt, as well) won't be happening with me, because I know she was very old and had probably lived longer than she might otherwise.

But I guess I am a little bereft. I'll think I've cried it all out, and then something will hit me funny, and I'll start to cry again. Not sure if I'm going to watch the re-run of "House" as I was planning to this evening because sometimes "House" makes me cry as it is, and the last thing I need is more fodder to make me all sloppy and sad.

Also when I wrote the following, I had not eaten yet. I was just thinking of fixing some dinner when I got the news and of course, news like that makes me not want to eat (ever again). But I did force myself, and even forced myself to eat something nutritious (salad and shrimp toasts). So I'm feeling a little less crazed now but still sad.)

Death can FTFO. Seriously. Even though you know when someone or something you love gets old and it's going to happen, it still hurts like hell. And for me, it awakens all my fears that there will come a time when everyone I love will have died, and I will be left with no one to talk to, no one who cares about me. (And then all of the jerks who told me, "you'll be sorry you didn't get married" will have their time to laugh.)

I'm not sure I'll feel up to posting again until after my short vacation/conference trip.

Not only am I sad but it's about eight hundred degrees outside here. And I had to deal with a crazy person at the DMV this afternoon. And I still have more errands I have to run tomorrow, including going to the drugstore, which almost guarantees I will have another crazy person to deal with.

I think I'm just going to go to bed and read a Harry Potter book or something. (but one of the earlier ones, where nobody dies.)

(Yeah, the cat had to be put to sleep. It happened this morning. She couldn't walk or drink or eat any more, so I guess it was time. But it still sucks and I still feel like I have a big sucking vacuum in my stomach and my chest.)


Kate P said...

Oh, I'm so sorry. It sucks. I'm sorry your family's sad, too.

Do whatever you need to, and let it take some time.

Amen to what you said--you can be "prepared" but it still hurts. That pretty much was the general feeling at the end of last week for me and my family. And if I can dare to venture a comment on fears about dying alone--I'm with you, but I guess I just can't rule out the possibility that whoever will be hanging out with me when I get old will be good company. One of the closest people to my family when she was elderly was the widowed lady who lived in the house next door to my parents--she and her late husband were the original owners, in fact. She looked after us as much as we looked after her, and heck, we just had fun being together. You never know, and I suspect that while we don't understand it and we can't dictate it, God provides. You're in my prayers. You're probably not the hugging kind, but you've got a virtual one from me anyway. (They're less squishy and you can't tell I haven't brushed my teeth yet.)

WordGirl said...

Losing a kitty is hard. So sorry.

And I'm in agreement with the "getting older" thing. It wasn't real to me until my grandmother had to be moved into assited living. The most independent woman I've ever known had lost almost all her friends and family to disease or death and was finally being taken from her most prized possession -- her house -- aka her freedom. Made me think about my own old age.

Hopefully, there will be more options by then. Hopefully...

Ken S, Fifth String on the Banjo of Life said...

My condolences, Ricki.

Cullen said...

Very sorry for your loss, Ricki.

nightfly said...

A pet becomes part of the family; moreso in good families with loving people. If you give your heart then little bits of it will be carried off with those you love when they pass.

Example: currently we are dog-sitting for Ladybug's folks - a 14-year-old shih-tzu. He's the dog equivalent of a crazy old codger. He doesn't know the neighborhood so he doesn't like it when we walk him, but we can't let his old, tiny bladder stay in the house: five times a day we bring him out, and he spends most of the time walking in a circle around the car, or sitting and pouting. Then when he finally gets moving he refuses to actually make his pit stop, and tries to walk up every neighbor's driveway. Finally, we get him in and he immediately starts circling and yapping - his way of telling us that he needs to go out for his business.

Poor little guy. I'm eager to hand him back at the end of the week, but I'm still going to miss that crazy old codger dog.