LadyDebra

Hi Susanne, I started to write you a short note, but of course, it ended being a long, long reply. I wanted you to know that it's 3:15 AM & I need to take some pain pills & try to get some sleep. Since Kitty Grey left me, I have trouble sleeping, so I try to rest as much as I can. I'll be back online tomorrow, so I'll finish my "letter" then & send it out. But I needed to tell you now, that like the other wonderfully kind, compassionate ladies who replied to me, happened to send a post on July 28, the 2 month date of Kitty Grey's passing. I needed to find that message so badly on that sad day. I was about to post my long sad post yesterday, the 3 month date of my girl's passing, & I found your message! Is that ironic, or perhaps more mysterious? Either way, I had to let you know that it arrived when I needed it most. I had such a sad, tear filled day of emptiness, loneliness, regrets, guilt & pain so bad, that I didn't think I could handle it. I'm afraid my 3 month post is pretty reflective of my sad, depressed mood, but it helps me to vent, cry, rant or rave on this site. It's because of kind souls like your's that keeps me going. I'll proof & send my post tomorrow. I hope it doesn't drive you away. I just hit the "strike through" icon & have no idea what that means, so I hope this comes out ok for you to read it. Take care & thank you again for taking time out to write me a caring, sympathetic note in honor of my Kitty Grey. It means a lot to me. Deb Lady Debra Lynn & the Sedona Cat Clan >^..^< Little One II & Whiskers & angels, Kitty Grey & golden boy, Gizmo, who have flown up ahead of me to my Kitty Grey.. Not flesh of my flesh Nor bone of my bone, But still miraculously my own. Never forget for a single minute You didn't grow Under my heart-but in it" ~Fleur Conkling Heylinger "I dropped a tear in the ocean. The day you find it is the day I will stop missing you." ~ Anonymous ~ [attachmentid=319][attachmentid=320][attachmentid=321][attachmentid=322][attachmentid=323]

Kelly & Maylissa, What a strange coincidence to find both posts today, as it's 2 months ago at 7:22 sunset, that my baby, Kitty Grey left me. I've been feeling so lost, sad, & hopeless today, that even a grief chat didn't help much. I actually crawled into bed with Kitty Grey's picture, the locket of her fur, and sobbed myself to sleep. I woke up, and saw the computer was still on, and decided to read e mails, and saw the message about your replies. I agree with everything you said, and Maylissa, I've been meaning to write you ever since you wrote me such a moving, compassionate, and intelligent letter dealing with the intense bonds we forged with our kids. Your words were so like mine, that I felt we were connected in some way. You saw the love I had with Kitty Grey and your letter made is so valid, so special, and so respected in a way that no one, even my family had done. Thank you for your compliments on her pictures too. You asked, "So, can you simply ask yourself if it's okay to just BE an unhappy, grieving person, at least for now?" I took your advice and gave myself to feel this way, cry, talk about her, and stay away from people who don't understand. Thank you for saying that for it really freed me to be me, and not worry, judge or care what others thought. I, too, feel that I will never feel as happy, content, and fortunate as I did with Kitty Grey in my life. She'll always live in my heart and soul, but I'd gladly do as Kelly said, do "ANYTHING to be able to save her". I, like you, have questioned God, railed at the universe, taken medications ( which are not helping me at all), and also have "never known grief so strong." Today was unbearable, as are may days. I seek solace in sleep, but still have awful nightmares. Then, lately, my other reason for not replying sooner, was that my other 2 cats, Whiskers and Little One II, have had serious health problems. I had to rush Little One II in for a near blockage that came out of no where, and Whisker's labs came back with very low anemia, which is unusual in a cat with "moderate" kidney values. I'm baffled, confused by the vets and am so tired of researching, trying new treatments, and going to different vets. Today, I truly hoped that I could I leave the earth, for I see nothing, not one thing to look forward to in the future, except more sadness, grief and loss of my cats and my parents. I don't think I can take it, and if Whisker's time is very limited, I don't know how to cope with another agonizing loss right now, not that I can every handle it very well, but being only 2 months since I lost Kitty Grey, I feel so raw and vulnerable. I want to write more back to both of you, but I have a killer migraine from crying. I'm still not sleeping or eating normally. My routine is so messed up, I can't tell day from night. I have to pull myself together mentally and physically for the sake of Whisk & LOII. They need me, and even though we don't share the same bond as I did with Miss Grey, I'm all they have to help them through their health battles. I know that CRF will take Whiskers, and I hate that roller coaster of fluids, meds, trying foods and supplements, but I have no choice. I expect the health issues with Whiskers, being 16, blind, high BP, anemia, IBS and CRF. However, Little One's serious problem this weekend really set me off into a blind panic. I kept hoping and praying I wouldn't lose her. I stressed out the entire time she was at the vets. It brought up every emotion, doubt, fear and thoughts that Kitty Grey's passing caused me. I've never felt anything like it and know I never will, which makes it all the more heartbreaking and the future more difficult to imagine living through. I love all the pics, and promise to write more later. Would you two consider keeping in touch now and then if you can, since we all share the same experience? I have no one to talk to, and I'd love to know more about you and your kids. Thank you again for posting on the day when I needed to hear something from someone who understood what this day and this loss of my baby meant to me. Please forgive typos or crazy words, since my head is about to burst. Take care. {{hugs}}} to you both, Deb, Little One II & Whiskers & angels, Kitty Grey and golden boy, Gizmo, who have flown up ahead of me to be with the rest of my fur babies

Hi again, I know I've written a lot, but I wanted to tell everything I've felt this past month, from Kitty Grey's passing, burial to this 1 month mark. The timing might be off but here are my combined posts. Thanks for letting me vent. I can't stop crying & stressing about burying my baby 2 weeks ago, in my back yard in Sedona, next to Gizmo, my angel orange tabby. It was a 3 hour trip full of emotions, tears, near hysteria, panic, sadness, & an incredible hole in my heart as I left to come back to the city until my health & that of my CRF blind cat, Whiskers, is more settled. I don't believe he'll make the journey home & the thought of losing him is too much to bear. I sound mean, but I wish I was as close & connected to Whiskers & my other tortie, Little One II, the same way I was to Kitty Grey. I love these cats, but they don't need me, sleep with me, or comfort me like Kitty Grey did. She was the cuddly, clingy one who needed a mama. KG was there for all the ups and downs of the past 20 years. She always wanted me to hold her, play with her, be with me. If I was doing anything else or with anyone else, she'd wail for me to come get her. If I was on the computer, she was next to it. If I was in bed, she laid on my chest or draped herself over my shoulder. When I'd cry, she'd gently put her paw on my cheek, or if she was on my chest or lap, she'd lick the tears away with her sandpaper tongue. She read me better than anyone. She possessed intelligence, gentleness & grace I'd never seen in such an abused cat. She had every right to be mean, but she never was. That didn't mean she didn't have sass, as she showed with her incredibly loud, wailing. At the vet, you could hear her through the entire building! She was a more than a part of my life; she was a part of me. I fussed over her constantly, even before she became ill. If I traveled anywhere, I had my parents "baby sit" or hire a pet sitter. I'd call every night to see how Kitty Grey was doing, where she was sleeping, if she was eating & if she missed me. KG was a kitten in a cat's body. She was as dependent on me as a baby would be to a mother, & as I've said, without having a child, she became that baby to me. We both needed each other to be fulfilled. When my life as I had known it for 18 years ended in divorce & a move, she was the one who gave me the comfort, security & the meaning to keep going & make a new life on my own. I really don't know how to go on without her. I think it would be easier to cope with if I had a job, friends, or a family to look after. I still can't sleep or eat much. My brain is in a fog & I can't concentrate. I let my bills go, messages go unanswered, & housework neglected. I don't care or have the energy to motivate myself to move. I'm drawn at sunset every day to the sun porch where I let Kitty Grey go, until the sun sets, usually crying, praying, or talking to my girl the entire time. I ask for signs, a sudden breeze to whip up, an unusual bird or cat to walk by, a slight dent in her blue cushion...anything that would show me she's still with me. I want & need a sign to reassure me she's at peace, that she's gone somewhere, that she isn't just gone. I ask Kitty Grey to visit me in my dreams, but I've just had complicated, nonsensical nightmares, or get so restless, tossing & turning that I sleep on the couch. With my fibromyalgia & back pain, it doesn't help my physical self any more than my mental self. Then the guilt hits & think I deserve to suffer, for the things I didn't do, like start her treatments earlier. Why I didn't try harder to make her eat her kidney food, buy her more vitamins or tried another vet? I think about the times I wasted on the computer, or shopping, when I could've been holding Kitty Grey, talking to her, rubbing her under her chin or letting her kiss my nose. But, there were times I set her aside, thinking I had something more important to do. It haunts me to think of it now, the times she cried when she had "killed" her sock for the 5th time & I was too tired to go & praise her. Or when I hurt so badly & stayed in bed for days, skipped her fluids, or wasn't there when she needed me. I'd give almost anything to turn the clock back & recapture those lost moments. I'd turn off the computer, the TV, the phone & pay attention to her. To look into those beautiful, blue crossed eyes again, to kiss her around her neck, where her pure white fur smelled like baby powder, to let her drape her furry paws around my neck, or lick my nose until it was red & hurt. Why didn't I pay more attention to her when she was here?? It tortures me. I don't want to turn on the TV, or music, or go anywhere. I don't want to read, shop, swim, & yet when she was here, why did I do all those things? I don't do anything now, but sit in silence, missing her gentle touch, soft purrs, head bonks & silly love bites. I feel I should be suffering, for ever neglecting her or not staying with her longer. I know I rescued her years ago, took her to numerous vets, gave her medications, put her first, but it never seems enough. The vets, boards & my parents praise me for being a great mom to Miss Grey, but I don't feel that. I don't feel comforted; I feel devastated. I know my parents get tired of having me calling them at all hours in tears, or coming over to find me laying in bed or on the floor, crying or just staring into space. It almost seems as if I've resigned myself to feel sad forever if I can't have her in my life with me. I knew this would be tough because I recognized the bond of mom & child I shared with Kitty Grey. I talked to my parents, doctors & counselors, yet none of their words nor medications have helped. I've been encouraged to go to grief support groups, or a hospital to straighten out my emotions, but can't move forward. I hate to go to sleep, knowing she isn't on her heated bed next to me on the nightstand. She looked so innocent & precious all curled up & relaxed with her head tilted up, that I'd lay on my side, just watching her breathe & I'd smile, at how cute & content she looked, & thinking how blessed & happy I was to have saved her & made her feel that safe & loved. It also made me feel happy & would ease my pain watching her. When I think back on the regrets of my life, the divorce, the chronic pain & loss of my career, I always thought that she was the reason I kept going, the reason I was here. Now, I feel I have no reason here. I miss Kitty Grey the most, in the dark, stillness of night, when I'm lying in bed with pain, or crying, knowing that she'd be on my chest the minute she heard me stir, or just sense it. She'd let me know I was loved & needed. I don't feel that anymore, in fact, I don't know why I'm here. My girl was my entire life, my purpose & destiny, to save her from abuse, then to baby her & spend years erasing those horrible memories from her mind. Now, she's gone & I feel like I'm gone too. I can't think of one thing that brings me joy like she did, or anything to look forward to when I wake up. I pace the floor, looking to find anything to focus on to keep from crying, trying to find some release from this horrible, haunting feeling. What should I do? I can't stand the stress, the sadness, but I can't move out of it either. I've barely left the house since she passed on May 28. I'm still drawn to the sun room at sunset, to watch the sun drop. No matter where I'm at in the house, or whatever I'm doing, I'm compelled to look at the clock & it's always 7:22 PM, right when Kitty Grey left me. Why am I doing that? It kills me. I'm so lost. I want to run away, or drive to Sedona, where Kitty Grey is laid to rest. I know she isn't really in the ground, but I don't feel her here either. Yet, I feel like I can't leave here, where her spirit left me, so I'm torn between both places. I can't feel or sense her with me, so I keep looking for her. I feel an emptiness, that she's really gone, not a spirit, not anywhere waiting for me. I doubt my faith, the idea of heaven, the rainbow bridge, any thing hopeful. I had a counselor & doctor come to the house before & after KG's passing. They both reassured me I wasn't having a nervous breakdown, that the depression & grief were mingling & causing more anguish. The Dr. increased my meds, & told me that grief is awful, terrifying, hard, & yet, I must go through it. The meds are supposed to balance my brain chemistry, so I can cope & move through the grief, but I've never handled loss well, even as a child. To make it worse, my parents are gone for 3 weeks. I had to write to ask if anyone else felt as bad, hopeless & desperate as me, not wanting to live on, feeling that there was no more joy to find, & nothing to look forward to or hope for. I want to just exist day to day, minute by minute until my time is up & I can be with my kitty. I know I sound crazy, & ironically I know it. I feel immature, that others have felt this way, & handled it. I'm supposedly intelligent & have had counseling for various things, but I can't handle this. I don't know how to. It's nearly 2 am, so I'll post this & try to get tired. As I was writing, I had the TV on, ironically one of the few times, & Sarah Brightman was singing, "Time to Say Goodbye". I broke down again. I've gone through losing fur babies numerous times before, & I survived, but no cat or dog has ever had the bond with me that Kitty Grey did. That's what scares me. I ask for prayers I can't summon, to give me strength, to give me a sign that Kitty Grey is at peace, some place where we'll be together again, that I'll live through this, even though honestly, I don't feel like it. I know my other 2 cats need me & my parents love me, but why isn't that enough? I feel that even if I do live, I'll just be dead inside, existing, without any feelings. I've rambled, & I'm sorry. It all came pouring out again.

Hi, I'm new here. I'm posting 2 separate times since I exceeded the length when I tried to put the posts together. The first is about the passing of my baby, Kitty Grey. The second is the aftermath of that, & the final act of burying her. I hope this makes sense. I also tried to attach pictures of her, but I'm not sure if they turned out. One is of us together, as we were most of the time. Pics of her alone are hard to take since her pretty crossed blue eyes, turn out red. I'm pretty miserable, under a counselor's care & fighting lifelong clinical depression, anxiety, & fibromyalgia on top of losing my girl. She was my "surrogate child", so her passing has altered my life completely & I'm not coping without her at all. I'm grateful to find a group where I can vent my feelings without receiving ridicule, scorn, or sheer callousness. Thank you. Deb Here's PART 1: My Kitty Grey Is An Angel I can hardly write through the tears. My brave, sweet, 20 yr old Kitty Grey left me yesterday at sunset. She had been in the ER last week for the reaction to a medication & seemed to go downhill from there. The last two nights that I stayed up with her convinced me it was time to do the unbearable, & let her go. She hadn't slept much & spent more time in the bathroom or litter box just staring. I'd give her medicine & sweet baby, as usual, never fought or complained, but now, I could see in the weariness & resignation in her eyes. It was if she was asking me, mom, must we do this again? I picked her up & she laid her head on my shoulder. She felt so tiny & thin. I knew then, that I could not continue to poke her fragile skin daily with fluids, keep pushing pills & syringes down her throat, or trying to make her eat when she didn't want to. I was just prolonging the inevitable. I sadly realized I was providing life support & she was just existing now & not truly living. I believe she was holding on for me, since she knew I felt I couldn't go on without her, that I was afraid that she was my lifeline, my only reason to live. I looked into those tired, blue crossed eyes & told her I loved her, always would, & that nothing, time nor distance would change that. Then I repeated the story I had told her so many times...how I fell in love with her at first sight, knew I had to rescue her from a terrible place, because she deserved so much more care, respect & love, & I was the one to give it to her. How, 2 yrs after that first meeting, I finally got her, cradled her in my arms, crying tears of happiness & announcing "She's really mine", like I had just adopted a baby. (In a way I had. I never had a child, so Kitty Grey became my "surrogate baby"). She was kitten like from the start & never seemed to grow up to "cat" stage, even though she had been a mama to so many litters, & now it was my turn to be the mama I wanted to be to her. I told her I was so very proud of her, that she was a brave trooper through her entire life, to survive terrible abuse, to go on for 20 years with no bitterness or fear toward humans, which she had every right to feel, but instead she showed me incredible love, comfort & how to find joy in the smallest thing. She lived each day to the fullest & she made my days & nights full of happiness. She went on to bravely fight CRF for the last 8 yrs, with grace, dignity, sweetness & her little bit of sass. She also sailed through the surgery on a benign tumor & not only did she survive the surgery, she stayed with me for more few months, happy & proud once again of her gorgeous, silky, silvery fur. I thanked for her being such an inspiration to me. When I was scared, hurting & wanting to give up, she was there to kiss away my tears, keep me company in bed through months of pain, & love me deeply & unconditionally. She never left me or let me down as so many humans had...but perhaps she understood that feeling. I told her I loved her endearing habits, like waking me up by gently placing a paw on my cheek, head bonking or "pretending" to bite my toes, draping herself over my shoulder when I fell asleep, & covering my nose & forehead with sandpaper kisses. She was there for me through a rough divorce, uprooting moves, disabling pain & personal losses. I told her how she was a part of me, that we shared a special bond & our hearts were connected & nothing could ever break that bond. I told her so much more, but most importantly, that I wasn't going to poke, prod, or take her to another vet. I told her that as much as I wanted her to stay, I had to let her go. That it was ok for her to leave me, it was just temporary, & she was going to a very special place where she'd be free of pain, disease, would be able to run & play like she used to & reunite with former housemates. I told her I'd meet her there later, & expected her to be waiting for me. It was hard to say, but harder to see the toll this disease had taken on her. I arranged for a very special vet I just heard about to come to the house. I didn't want Kitty Grey to suspect anything, to stress over the hot car trip, see another clinic or feel that I was leaving her at the hospital again. All she knew what she was spending another sunny afternoon on the sun porch, that "grandMAW & grandPAW" were visiting, & that mom was giving her lots of love & kisses as usual. I tried not to cry in front of her but at times, it just flowed out. The minutes ticked by as I got more scared, nervous, panicked & then the doorbell rang & my stomach dropped. The vet had arrived. She was understanding, compassionate, & told me to take all the time I needed to say my goodbyes. She thought Kitty Grey was gorgeous & boy, was she! Kitty Grey was sitting comfortably on the bench, ( not hunched up like she'd been sitting lately) but stretched out, regally, like the Sphinx, her long fur blowing in the breeze, her head held up high, her fur shining in the sun. It was really hard to "begin". How does one play God & name the time a life should end? My parents each held an angel ornament off the tree I had put up for Kitty Grey, Christmas 2006, when I thought I'd lose her, but as she had so many times, rallied & proved the vets wrong. She wasn't ready to go then. The little tree is still up, with her tiny kitty stocking hanging off it. But then I noticed Kitty Grey tiring out, head drooping, reality setting in as I recalled how awful the past nights had been, & gave the nod to start. The vet said a beautiful pet blessing I had picked out & I held my sweet girl's head in my hands as I sang our special song to her & told her again I loved her. The first shot hurt her a bit being in the muscle. That hurt me to hear her cry out, but she relaxed quickly & laid her head down by mine. She looked like she was peacefully basking in a sunny nap. The vet told me when she was giving the second shot & I watched my beautiful baby slip away quickly & peacefully as the sun set. Once the vet said she was gone, I released all the emotions I had held in for KG's sake. I thought I'd die right there, trying to catch my breath & felt as if my heart was ripped out, the sadness, anguish, & emptiness so was intense. I was sobbing as I laid over her, gathering her in my arms. The vet laid her hand on my shoulder, & said a prayer for me I didn't hear through my tears, but I know she was asking God to give me strength. All of us were crying. My parents kissed the top of Miss Grey's head, then my girl was wrapped up in her blanket & put into my arms. I looked down at her peaceful face, & knew I did the right thing at the right time. It didn't make my grief or pain any less, but holding her like a baby comforted me. Some might think it's too sad or even morbid, but I don't. It's like a final hug. She was so soft, so little & I just rocked her. I also do this thing I began when I lost Gizmo 2 yrs ago. I carried Kitty Grey through each room of the house before leaving for the ER, remembering all the times we shared in each one, the hardest being the bedroom where her bed, munchies, toys & space we had shared for so long. It's as if I wanted her to "see" her home once more before she left. I held her on the ride to the ER, where they'd keep her until I could take her home to Sedona, & bury her next to Gizmo, under the big pine, in the backyard, where I can see their memorial stones from my bedroom. The ER tech was very compassionate & gave me a private room to say goodbye. My parents & I spent a few more moments tucking her in her blanket with her sock & ball, & they literally had to drag me out of that room. I kept stopping the tech in the door asking to let me see her face again. She looked so perfect lying wrapped up with her little gray nose showing. My mom finally helped me leave that room as I sobbed like a baby & it broke my heart all over again. I'm hurting so bad, I can't believe how much I miss her. When I woke this morning & turned to the nightstand, I couldn't believe she wasn't there, on her heated bed, opening those gorgeous, blue crossed eyes to greet me. She wasn't there to pull over onto my chest for her usual chin rubs, snuggles & my nose & forehead kiss with her sandpaper tongue. The toughest time was at sunset tonight, when I relived yesterday's moments. The soft breeze, the vivid red & orange sun streaks were the same, but she wasn't there basking in the last rays. I couldn't bear the sense of loneliness & deep pain. I know she's at peace, but I'm not. I know that I put her needs before mine, that she wasn't happy living & was starting to suffer, but it doesn't help me cope. Intellectually, I knew it was time to let her go, but emotionally, I wanted to hold on to her forever. I had hoped & prayed for her to have a peaceful passing, which she did, & now I pray for strength to survive this loss, to beat the depression & the hopelessness I feel about waking up tomorrow. I have no idea how to go on without her. For now, I need to cry & figure out how to go on. Thank you Kitty Grey for the best years of my life. You were the best part of me. Kitty Grey's sad, proud mama, Deb