12/29/2023
It’s been months since my last post. Why? Burnout, health scare, loss, more loss, more burnout, another health scare, loss, more loss, and most of all, grief.
The last six months have been some of my worst. We lost our 19 year old cat, Felina, then 19 days later, our beloved Golden Retriever, Zoey, from brain cancer. July was devastating. December saw the major losses of my Grandfather figure, Uncle Bill, and my Mother-in-Law, Peggy.
I don’t think there has been a day since July 2nd without grief present in some capacity. I’ve been trying my best to allow it in, invite it for tea, and show me what it needs me to see. While that may seem strange, it’s also helped me survive. Pretending that these losses don’t hurt only prolongs the pain and allows it to show up as anger, resentment, frustration, fear, or something else. Being curious about my grief allows it to exist when it needs to and allows me to keep living, working, loving, eating, and moving through the motions of life. By the time December rolled in, I was even ready to welcome in a new friend, a cat. If I hadn’t welcomed in my grief, I don’t know if that would’ve been possible.
I-lean, the three-legged cow kitty is no sassy old Fealina-Bean. But I don’t want her to be—I want Bean to live on in my memories as the bitchy, demanding, loud, old, cranky lap cat that she was. She was the best. I-lean is demanding in her own right, but in a much quieter way. She also loves a lap, which is very nice, especially in the winter.
It’s good to be back here. I hope the last six months have been kinder to you than they’ve been to my family, but if they haven’t, I hope you’re managing your own pain as well as you can by allowing it in. Give yourself the gift of feeling it so you can move through the waves as they show themselves and trust that you have what it takes to make it through this.
May 2024 be kinder and gentler to us all. ❤️