I watched Maxs videos today. I looked at his photos. They feel so real, like I could reach through the phone and touch him. Some of them are from just a few days before his passing. He passed 15 days ago. It feels like he been gone for years. The days are torturous without him. The days that are good and that I feel somewhat normal/happy I feel terribly guilty. I feel guilty enjoying things. I feel guilty not journaling down all of my memories of him, but journaling them is a part of acknowledging  that he’s gone. I want to honor him, but I can’t admit he’s not coming back to me. I feel guilty that I didn’t cry for him yesterday or today. I washed his bed the other day and I felt guilty getting rid of his scent. I purchased two blanket size zip loc bags to but some of his blankets in so they don’t loose his smell. I see him everywhere. A part of me knows his spirit is here, I just want to be able to hold him and rock him like a baby. When I sit in the living room it’s even difficult to look around the room, my brain still assumes he will be lying in one of his beds with his blankie. Nothing in life feels the same, each day feels like I’m just limping along, just existing. If feels all the joy and spark of life was sucked out of the world that day he left. That hellish day. Life just feels like purgatory now, an aimless nothingness without my son. 

Laraine Esposito 
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Oh Laraine I know exactly how you feel.  My Ruby Tuesday, my 16 year old beautiful black cat has been gone for 3 days.  My days are tortuous without her as well.  And I too feel guilty for eating, or sleeping or watching I'm not acknowledging her or remembering her every second.  I've slept maybe 6 hours since she's been gone and I haven't eaten a thing since Friday at 2pm when I got the call from the vet.  My baby went to sleep without me because of COVID and I am GUTTED that I couldn't be with her.  I feel soooooooo much pain over that.  I sit in my living room like you do, not looking at anything at all except my computer and this forum because I can't bear to look at any of her many little beds.  I am tortured to think that I will never eat her belly again, or count her toes, or smell her fur.  I know I was a good mum.  She was so spoilt.  Every day with her was heaven....such a good little monkey.  We have to remember all the incredible years we had together and not think about the last day.   I keep telling myself that over and over …..remember the thousands of good days, not the one bad day.  We can do this for our babies.  Please take care.
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