ksna
"I am the wisest man alive, for I know one thing, and that is that I know nothing." ~Socrates
Another Day, Another Loss
My best friend of nearly 20 years passed away last Saturday. My heart is broken and the loss is killing me.
She was the one soul that never once let me down or hurt me. She was there when I needed her. She made me feel loved and needed at every chance.
Now she's gone, and with her the last of my childhood. She was the only remaining link to that period of time, so now it is free to go.
Her death was heart wrenching, especially when I know that she was trying to get to me for her final moments. I didn't even notice. I was too busy sleeping to sense that she was hurting and needed me. My family tries to soothe me with the beauty of the fact that she wanted to be with me, but it does not help because I was not there for her when she was always there for me.
My husband was the one that found her, her paw stuck in the fabric of the box springs. I continuously hope that the exhertion of trying to get loose hit Cali with a quick and sudden heart attact, but my mind continues to picture her frantically trying to loose herself to no avail and knowing that I was not coming to save her and comfort her.
I hate myself. I've tortured myself from the moment I was awoken for the scene. I'm a terrible mother and a useless friend.
I miss her so much!
I washed her body, as she was suffering from kidney failure and was no longer very good at grooming herself, and combed her prettily. We made a nice bed of plush fabric and wrapped her in warm fleece. She has been laid to rest at my parents' house, so that I may visit.
She will never again rest on my shoulder, to nudge my face with hers. There will be no more nights of being unable to turn over as she had made herself comfortable on my back or side. There will be no more games of pencil grabbing or feather chasing. There won't be anything, because she's gone and I'm left with memories that can not warm me on a cold night.
She was the one soul that never once let me down or hurt me. She was there when I needed her. She made me feel loved and needed at every chance.
Now she's gone, and with her the last of my childhood. She was the only remaining link to that period of time, so now it is free to go.
Her death was heart wrenching, especially when I know that she was trying to get to me for her final moments. I didn't even notice. I was too busy sleeping to sense that she was hurting and needed me. My family tries to soothe me with the beauty of the fact that she wanted to be with me, but it does not help because I was not there for her when she was always there for me.
My husband was the one that found her, her paw stuck in the fabric of the box springs. I continuously hope that the exhertion of trying to get loose hit Cali with a quick and sudden heart attact, but my mind continues to picture her frantically trying to loose herself to no avail and knowing that I was not coming to save her and comfort her.
I hate myself. I've tortured myself from the moment I was awoken for the scene. I'm a terrible mother and a useless friend.
I miss her so much!
I washed her body, as she was suffering from kidney failure and was no longer very good at grooming herself, and combed her prettily. We made a nice bed of plush fabric and wrapped her in warm fleece. She has been laid to rest at my parents' house, so that I may visit.
She will never again rest on my shoulder, to nudge my face with hers. There will be no more nights of being unable to turn over as she had made herself comfortable on my back or side. There will be no more games of pencil grabbing or feather chasing. There won't be anything, because she's gone and I'm left with memories that can not warm me on a cold night.
Time as delegated by man
Life Voyeurs
