I only lost my Oscar last Friday and already I get the feeling people think I should be over it. It diminishes my love for Oscar, because he was my best friend, and if he were human, I'd grieve this hard. So why should it make any difference that he was a cat?
It angers me when people are scornful of pet grief. "Why is she crying?" "Her cat died." "And she's CRYING?" Even those who are sympathetic are patronizing about it, as though because Oscar was a cute cat that my grief is cute. (I can't really describe it well, but just that it really rubs me the wrong way.) I am heading to my aunt's for aunt therapy and horse therapy. My aunt is terminally ill, and I am going to have to keep myself from bowling her over when I see her. I will be seeing a therapist this Friday, as my coping mechanisms are not working. I'm usually quite a happy person, but Oscar was part of that happiness. I bragged about him, showed people pictures of him, and I just loved that he was mine. He was there for me when my mother died, but he won't be there for me when my aunt dies. I am dreading it. I will have two major deaths this year. I'm so overwhelmed. I have no idea where I will be in 3 months, but I hope I can heal. This hole in my heart is big. I totally hear you on barely making it through your day. I have to keep very busy at work but once I'm in my car the waterworks start. Even then I try to hold it in until I'm at least out of the parking lot. I'm not exactly the safest driver right now.
Oscar was but 9. I had not even 4 full years with him. He loved me so much. And I loved him. He is sorely missed.