(no subject)

May 02, 2021 17:15

 don't think just post

Cleo died at the end of March.

I wanted to write about her last week - it was a hell of a week, for a lot of reasons, and I had - have - a hell of a lot of emotions/guilt about it, for a lot of reasons. But it's almost six weeks later, and I still can't face sitting down and writing about it. I still keep her collar and tag in my pocket, I still have her food and water bowl in the kitchen because I don't want to put them away. I donated the vast majority of the unopened food and litter to a local shelter, but the opened food in the container I have for it is still in the cupboard, waiting. Her bed is in my office, and there's various toys and grooming items scattered around the house.

Since Cleo died, Bill's father also passed away. Cleo's death was sudden (at least to me); my FIL's was a slow decline. They were still echoes of each other - I don't know how Bill would take that comparison, but it's how I see it from my POV.

I know 2020 sucked for a lot of people, but for our family, it was a hell of a lot better than 2021 is shaping up to be.

Cross-posted from Dreamwidth. Comment in either location.

cleo, don't think just post

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