family status report

You guys really are the best.  Thank you for all of your kind words and thoughts and prayers.  Quite a few of you have sent me the above picture.  It made me smile.

It’s quiet here at my house. It’s very strange.  Eric is at work, so it’s just me and Taylor.  He keeps sitting close to me and rubbing his head into my hand.  He didn’t like to be pet before.  We both have the blues.

I find myself looking in places where she would sit– just out of habit.  It feels so empty here without her.  Quiet.  I just miss her.

And I get angry about it, too.  It’s a cat, you know?  So many people would be like, “it’s just a fucking cat, girl, get over it.”  And part of me thinks it would be easier if I thought of her that way.  But I can’t.  She was my cat.  She was my friend.

At the vet’s office when we were saying goodbye, Eric said to her that we were going to have a wake for her this weekend.  I smiled at that thought.  Lillith would always come out and sit in the living room when we had company.  She loved company.  More laps, more hands, more food possibilities, after all.

Apparently last night when Eric was out two different people told him at two different times that we should have a wake this weekend.  It seems that others want to say goodbye as well.

So we may do that.  I did have a kitty-warming party when they got here.  It makes sense to have a little party when she leaves.  She’d like that.

I’m okay when I’m not talking about her.  I’m okay when I’m not thinking of her.  But when I am, I just can’t stop crying.

I’ve never had just one cat before.  I’ve always had two.  When my childhood cat Nutso died, I was in college.  I just had no cats.  Today I was standing in the pet aisle of the store buying kitty litter and I realized that I had no idea how much litter you need for just one cat.  All of the boxes I would get were for “multiple cat control.”  I don’t have to put as much food out (although Taylor doesn’t mind).  Going into the pantry today Lillith’s old bowl fell out.  We had put it away when Taylor got acne, but I had forgotten about it.  Chuy had made a sticker for it that said “Lillith’s bowl.”

Her favorite toy still sits by the television.  I can’t bear to get rid of it.  I won’t.  I got rid of the stuff that reminds me of her sick– all of the syringes and creams and baby food and tuna.  I kept her toys.  I kept her brush.  I keep looking at the chair that we have that looks green– but when Lillith would sit in it you could barely see her.  She would just blend in and the entire chair looked like it was made out of Lillith’s grey-colored fur.  You wouldn’t think the chair was a grey color unless she was sitting on it.  She loved to sit in that chair.  I keep thinking I see her out of the corner of my eye– sitting by the window, sitting under the table, around my ankles when I brush my teeth.

But she’s not there.  I can’t even wish hard enough to make her there.

Death is so hard on the people left behind.

Man, when did daytime television start sucking so hard?  I haven’t really stayed home and did nothing in a long time.  Sally just wants to control wild teenagers by making them feel stupid.  Jerry only has on rednecks.  What the heck is this Extra show?  Oprah isn’t on for another hour and a half.  I guess I’ll read.

Taylor seems to be doing okay.  He just is more affectionate than he ever was.  He keeps sitting by my side and he lets me pet him as much as I want.  I think he’s doing me a favor, more than anything else.  I bought him a new toy when I was at the store today.  He’s terrified of it.  I don’t get it.  It’s a big mouse filled with catnip.  He just runs when I bring it near him.

I think it has something to do with the fact that when I first pulled it out of the bag and threw it at him, it hit him square in the head.  I didn’t mean to, but now he thinks this catnip mouse has it out for him.

I’m not a crazy cat lady.  I swear I’m not.

I just wanted to tell everyone that we’re doing okay.  Eric hasn’t read all of the letters and notes, but he knows they are there.  He’ll read them later, when he can.  Right now everything is too close to the surface, you know?  But we both thank you, all three of us thank you.

The four of us.  I can feel Lillith here.  I know she’s happy.  The only down part of all of this is that we miss her so very much.

(sorry I made so many of you cry at work.  hope you don’t get any psych reviews out of it…)

Take a big breath and keep going, right?  Yeah.  I think I’m going to take a big nap.