My approach to life has reverted back to the title of this journey. We had to say goodbye to Minnie yesterday - our beloved, bossy, perfect third member of our family. And I am not coping very well. So. One day at a time.
It happening five days before Christmas is especially horrible, but there would have been no good time. She’s been on a growing cocktail of meds for a couple of years, battling various conditions, but the thing was she never looked old and she was still playful and funny and impetuous and shouty right up until a few days ago. And still beautiful until, well, she never stopped being beautiful. We and our vet had been keeping a very careful balance with her health and as long as that balance was maintained, everyone was happy. But something changed on Tuesday. Our amazing vet nurse (who comes to the house, always, it’s the best service) visited and we tried one last medicine, but it didn’t help and yesterday we had to make the decision that you absolutely dread.
And honestly I have been crying more than, if it’s possible, in the days after Mum died. Certainly as much. I know that’s weird and I’m not comparing the two. But Minnie has been here, with me and Gareth, every day for almost 14 years. She’s helped get me through my Dad dying, and then my Mum, and tough work times, and all the time I was away at Mum’s over the summer I had this little glow of comfort knowing that Gareth and Minnie were at home looking after each other and that she’d be keeping him company and he’d be taking silly photos of them both to make me laugh. She’s been curled up on the bed or in her basket or telling me off in the spare room where I work every day of working from home for seven years. She was the best company. She brought us so much joy.
As I’m typing this I have got tears streaming down my face. Yesterday I had to take my lenses out (still wearing glasses now) because I’d cried so much I’d fogged them up with residue and was struggling to read. That’s new.
This morning was the first where we got up and she wasn’t waiting to greet us, with either a sleepy miaow or a cross one depending on how awake she was. The first where I didn’t have to clean out her food bowls and make up her morning medicine and give her lots of fussing and cuddles and let her outside. Firsts are the worst.
And I know, almost certainly, that I’m affected by this more than I might otherwise be because of everything that’s happened this year. Of course. But that doesn’t actually help right now, today. I’m just very very very sad.
I read something a couple of weeks ago about how human beings need eight hugs a day for general emotional maintenance, and ideally twelve or more hugs a day to feel good about the world (with some instructions about self-hugging if you were on your own).
We cuddled Minnie dozens of times a day.
Gareth and I have been hugging a lot.
Immediate aftermath stuff is, again weirdly, like a little version of what we did the day after Mum died. We packed up all Minnie’s unopened food and litter and took it to a donation point (after Mum, we took everything that was unused and had been useful for her home care to her caring company, so they could distribute to other people who would find those things helpful). We have packed away most of her things (so, so, so many things for such a little cat) into some boxes and will put them up in the loft later today. We’ve kept out her favourite toy. I keep finding little bits of fur. Thankfully the paperwork is nothing like what’s involved when a human dies.
Oof. But, OK, life does continue. Some nice things have happened in the last two weeks. I went to see a matinee of Six at the Vaudeville with my friend who has recently gone freelance (when I am less sad I will absolutely cheerlead any of you on who are considering going self-employed, btw). Another great work project for the new year fell into my lap (never not grateful when that happens). We finished our Christmas shopping (some things are yet to arrive in the post, but still). We cleared out the little back bedroom. I bought the Christmas Radio Times. The tree is up.
We’re having my brothers at our house for Christmas this year so there’s still more to organise, but lots is done. It’s mostly just present wrapping and putting the outside lights up still to do. I’m sure we’ll manage that before Christmas Eve. So. We go again. One day at a time.
Life things - I have been…
Reading - Volume 8 of the Unselected Journals of Emma M Lion, by Beth Brower. I devoured vols 1-7 back in March and have been impatiently waiting for this one. Perfect reading to help me through what’s been going on. Arch, whimsical, more affecting than you might expect, eccentric, a tiny bit fey, kind of Bridgerton with no sex and less money and more magic (on the edges) books and friendship. They’re really delightful books and I heavily recommend.
Watching - Nobody Wants This on Netflix. Various people suggested this when I was looking for comfort TV over the summer and yesterday seemed like a good time to start watching it. Adam Brody and Kristen Bell in a romcom series. It’s pretty much what we need right now. (Also when does the good Christmas TV start?)
Eating - Not very much tbh. I know from past experience that when I am sad my appetite vanishes. But we have a small mountain of food in this house ready for Christmas so hopefully things in that respect will improve over the next few days. We had lasagne for dinner last night, which was nice.
PS Apologies to those who listen to the audio versions of these each week. I have tried to record this but I am too emotional and I can’t do it today. I’m sorry. x
❤️💔
I'm so sorry, Kat. What a horrible year.