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sarahmarystreet

Wasn’t there to say goodbye.. suicidal from guilt and grief

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Hello,

I don’t really know how to begin, or what to say. I’ve never felt anything like this, in my life, and I am a sensitive and emotional person, in the first place. This pain is almost immeasurable, it feels surreal. Last Tuesday, my soul mate died, and I wasn’t there to say goodbye. I absolutely hate myself, the guilt is killing me, and I just wish that I could be with her, again, and spend eternity with her, because the thought of death with her is so much better than the thought of living without her. 

Cleo was 19 when she died. She lived a long life, filled with love. She was the most beautiful, loving, and sensitive cat, I have ever known. She was perfect, and unique, and all her quirks that irritated others, just made me love her all the more. She was basically a self-imposed house cat. Despite constant access to the outdoors, she preferred to go out only with human company. Mostly mine. She was a family cat, but everyone knew that mine and Cleo’s love was like no other. I was her favourite, and she is mine, above all others. We had a bond and connection to each other, that I cannot even begin to think of describing with words, alone. It was just.. she was, and is, part of me. We understood each other. I didn’t look at her as a cat; she was Cleo. A beautiful, gorgeous, loving, radiant, hilarious, adorable, chubby, sensitive, warm spirit, that changed my life. I could never bring myself to fully contemplate what would happen when she died, but I never imagined that I wouldn’t be there for her. 

Last December,  I moved to Denmark to be with my Danish boyfriend, since, fiancé. With Cleo’s advancing age in mind, her well-managed chronic kidney disease, and her nervous and sensitive disposition, particularly to change, it would have been cruel to ask her to endure any kind of relocation, let alone to Denmark. From apparent stress, she once lost all the fur on her bottom half, making it appear as though she’d forgotten to put on her trousers, which was equally the most adorable and upsetting thing to see. She was just so beautifully sensitive. I wasn’t going to put her through any kind of upset, if at all possible. She would be more comfortable, secure, and safe within the walls and garden of her lifelong home, with my parents to look after her. 

Every day, I carried a sense of guilt that I had left her behind. It was the last thing I ever wanted to do. She was, and is, my one love, my light, my soul mate. There were nights where my fiancé had to rock me like a baby, as I sobbed desperately in his arms, over the distance I had created between Cleo and I. I just wanted to be with her, for her to be with me, for me to be with her. It broke my heart, every day. I would gaze lovingly at the framed photo I have of her, I would speak to her on FaceTime when contacting my parents, but it just wasn’t enough. I had seen her for three weeks in April, and for one week in the middle of August, and each time, it was increasingly impossible to leave her. Yet, leave I did. 

Last Tuesday, I received a FaceTime call from my Dad. It was odd that the call came through, considering my iPad was locked and set to 'do not disturb'. In some way, I feel like it was Cleo and our love that allowed the call to come through. Furthermore, the day before, I had heard a cat meow outside the doors to the flats. It wasn’t Cleo’s meow, but it was a meow. I looked outside, and there was nothing there. I wonder if, in some way, this, too, was a sign. 

The call was to carry the news I never wished or hoped to hear. The darkest day in my life had arrived. She was fading rapidly, she could no longer move the back half of her body, she could not and would not eat or drink, despite efforts to hydrate her using a syringe, she just could not do it. My heart broke irreparably in that very second. I am so grateful to my parents for including me as much as they physically could, for giving me the chance to say goodbye in the only way possible, given the circumstances. They warned me that she was to be taken to the vets, and that it was highly likely she would not come home, alive. I mustered up everything within me to whistle her favourite songs. She was always so responsive to whistling, and she was a Disney girl at heart. In the last couple of years, as her health changed, she took little interest in these songs. However, as I sat there, tears streaming, breath unsteady, I was able to give my rendition of 'Part of Your World'. She had been unresponsive for hours, and yet.. she was trying to lift up her head.. the twinkle of recognition palpable, despite her being near lifeless. My Dad couldn’t believe it. That moment means the absolute universe, to me. Next, I tried 'Colors of the Wind', but my sobs made it near impossible. It was the greatest joy to be able to give her that gift, and for her to know it was from me. 

I sent all my love to her, I spoke to her in loving, yet undeniably heartbroken, tones, I said everything I could think to say, all the verbal tokens of love that I had always said. But it just wasn’t enough. I asked my Dad to stroke her as I said them, to give her the kiss that I would have given, though I would not have been able to stop kissing her. I even tried to stroke the screen, as if she would feel my fingers on her skin. At one point, she was miraculously able to lift herself up to see the screen, and I have never seen anything like it, in my life. It absolutely shatters my whole existence. It is the most beautiful and heart wrenching thing, I have ever seen. That face.., she looked so different in that moment, I have never seen her look like that, before, those eyes... so large, so close to death, and so full of life and love. It’s too much. It’s too beautiful. 

Given the circumstances, and with eternal thanks to my parents, I did all that I could. But it wasn’t enough. I will never get to hear her, see her, smell her, hold her, kiss her, touch her, laugh with her, lie with her, whistle for her, feel her love and envelope her in mine, ever again.. . I couldn’t hold her paw, as my dad did for me, as she died, I couldn’t be there for the funeral. I will never be with her, again, not on earth, and it is breaking me. I am completely overcome with grief, and guilt. The guilt is corroding my heart, I have a constant physical pain. I feel as though I left her, abandoned her... that she must have hated me, she can’t have known why I wasn’t there. All she knows is that I wasn’t there when she needed me the most. I absolutely despise myself. I honestly feel like the worst human being who has ever lived. I should have never moved to Denmark, I should have waited until she had gone, because I knew she was old, and I knew she had an illness. I am disgusting. I keep begging her to forgive me, but I know I don’t deserve it. I keep saying sorry, I keep hoping she will show me, in some way, that she is okay. 

In the early hours of Monday morning, I felt a warmth between my legs as I lay cross-legged, and as I sat up, I felt as though I was able to pick up this warmth, and cradle it. I am almost convinced it was my mind trying to create some sort of comfort, but there is part of me that feels as though it was my Cleo, and just in case it was, I spoke to her. I said everything I wanted to say, and afterwards, I felt a coolness pass over my face. I noticed a shift in me, in that moment, which brought me some relief. But since then, I have completely relapsed into a suicidal state. I have panic attacks from the grief, and when I’m not crying, I just exist in a black hole of misery. I will never be able to forgive myself or live with myself for leaving my baby. 

It has been especially difficult, as my fiancé is currently working offshore, so I have had to experience this, alone. He has been amazing, through Skype calls, and he has written me the most beautiful words to try and help me see things in a different way. I couldn’t have asked for more support. My parents, who can sometimes be emotionally distant, have been wonderful, and have, obviously, been greatly touched by her death, also. I am doing as much research as I can, I have created online photo albums, made videos from the photos, I listen to her favourite song, I have gathered a few momentos to comfort myself as I try to sleep. Luckily, I have a blanket with me that she slept on, many times, which I have been holding at night. My fiancé made the suggestion that we hold a memorial when he is back, and find a lovely spot to place some memories. I am planning on framing more photos, and painting a picture of her, as I have in the past, and getting some items printed using photos of her, such as a cushion cover, and iPad case. Also, I am planning to crochet a little toy to represent her. 

When I spoke to Cleo for the last time, I made suggestions of items we could keep with her, such as a bib I had crocheted for her as a little joke, which she surprisingly enjoyed, a kitchen sponge, as she used to frequently 'murder' them, and call to let us know what a vicious killer she was, an Autumn leaf, as she used to mercilessly kill these, too. Some daisies, as we used to play and make chains with them, a tea bag, as she used to love finishing off a cup of tea using her paw, and other little knickknacks that speak of her personality, and our time together. 

I feel like all these things should add up to some way of coping, but I cannot cope. The guilt is killing me. I need to somehow atone for my disgraceful behaviour. I have begun looking at cat rescue centres. We are planning to move to a flat that allows pets, and, knowing that I will be able to give an adult cat with a hard life a home and the love it deserves, does help, somewhat. But my Cleo. I left her, and I never wanted to, I never intended to. Yet, I did. I truly am a monster, I don’t know how to live with this feeling. I would infinitely rather be with her than live without her. 

I apologise for the essay I’ve written.. I doubt many people will want to read it.. but for those of you that do, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, and wish you all the best on your own journeys to recovery after losing our best friends and soul mates.

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KayC   

sarahmarystreet,

I am so sorry for your loss of Cleo.  I do understand how hard that must have been, but every decision you made was with her in mind.  Cats often want to be alone when they died, they respond to their impending death differently than we humans do.  They take it in matter of factly, preferring to face it alone and be with it until what comes, comes.  

It's interesting you describe her as your soulmate.  My husband was my human soulmate, but after he died, I got a dog who is perfect for me and I've referred to him as my soulmate, not like my husband was, of course, but if you could choose a dog that was perfect for me, he would be it

I wish you comfort and peace as you start your adjustments in coping with her loss in your life.  If you truly feel suicidal, talk to your fiance about it and find a suicide hotline and call it!  Look for a grief counselor as well to help you through this, it's hard to navigate alone.

http://media.wix.com/ugd/0dd4a5_e934e7f92d104d31bcb334d6c6d63974.pdf 

https://www.griefhealingblog.com/2016/03/in-grief-coping-with-moment-of-death.html 

 

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KayC, 

Thank you so much for your kind words. I am so deeply sorry to hear that your husband died, your soul mate, that is truly heartbreaking, and must have been immeasurably hard. I am gladdened to know that you and your animal soul mate have found each other. It’s amazing, isn’t it, they just bring something so different to our lives, they exist on a different plane to us, I’m sure. I have found my human soul mate in my fiancé, but Cleo was my one... in such a different way, she was my love, my first soul mate, my Cleo. 

I honestly feel sick with guilt, and worry that she will think I abandoned her. Because I wasn’t there, I might as well have done, but it was never my intention. She means the absolute world to me, and so to think that I ever did anything that meant I left her behind... I can’t live with myself. 

My Dad stayed with her as she was put down, and held her paw, and she had been immobile for around a day, and was lying on a blanket in our lounge. She was mostly unresponsive. But seeing how she responded to my voice, my songs for her, on FaceTime, breaks my heart because if she responded to me such through a screen, I can’t help but imagine the difference it would have made to her, had I been there, where I should have been. I feel like everyone must think I’m the worst person who has ever lived, because that’s how I see myself. I feel as though people must be judging me, as I judge myself. I let my baby down, and it’s unforgivable, it’s soul destroying. No one could ever believe how much I love her, how strong our connection is, and then marry that thought with the fact that I wasn’t there. 

Thank you for your advice. I have spoken to my fiancé, and luckily he will be getting back from work, tonight. I have also spoken to my parents. They all think I have no reason to feel guilty, that it’s silly to feel as I do, that it’s just part of grieving. But I know I have every reason to feel like this. 

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AJWCat   

@sarahmarystreet, Cleo was so sweet and I loved seeing her pics with you! Your Dad was there for her which was so nice. She was not alone but your physical presence at that moment didn't alter the love you had. It's easy for us to put human thoughts into our pet's minds but I believe she had nothing but love for you and was ready to pass on. They did the right thing to let her go. All you can now is grieve. After we lost our wonderful cat in a horrific and sudden way, the world changed overnight. I lost all happiness for anything. I am getting much better now a couple months later even though their is a hole in my heart still.  wish I could give you a quick way to erase the pain but a cat like Cleo was for you, there is no fast way. You just treasure her love and the bond you had. With all that said, let yourself be sad but please let the guilt go.

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KayC   
8 hours ago, sarahmarystreet said:

I honestly feel sick with guilt, and worry that she will think I abandoned her.

If it's any consolation, I think when we cross into afterlife, we have an understanding that supersedes anything we've realized here.  I think she understands and knows you love her and would never abandon her and she still loves you also and is here with you in the way she now can be.

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Maria9   

sarahmarystreet, I am so sorry for your loss of your Cleo, she was lovely. I know your heart broke, it is a loss like no other when our pets leave this earth. Your kitty knew how much you loved her and she felt your love till the end ,even if you were not there physically. And your dad was there for her, she felt his love too. Please try not to feel guilty. You always had only her own good on your mind and you did not abandon her. And maybe your kitty wanted to pass when you were away, so that you wouldn't be traumatized and carry the images of her last moments in your mind and heart forever. I am sure she knew that you have found a human soulmate in your partner and she passed in peace knowing that you're in good hands. You gave her such a good life, try to remember all the love you shared and you still share, because her spirit will always be with you.

Thank you for sharing your moving story with us. The grieving part is very hard, I know, it needs to be taken one day at a time. I hope in time you find healing and peace.

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Thank you all so, so much for your beautifully kind words and thoughts. I cannot tell you what it means to me that you have all reached out, in the midsts of your own losses—in regards to which I am truly so sorry, and wish you strength, courage, hope, peace, and wisdom on the road to acceptance, recovery, and living in the love of the memories of your lost ones. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart, and I really will take everything that has been said onboard.

I have found that, through your words, talking to my fiancé and family, and by performing my own little rituals, such as lighting candles and placing them by her photo, and kissing the photo, that I am able to find some solace. By speaking aloud and sending my apologies, followed by sending my love, somehow, to and through the candle.. it brings me closer to a place of grieving positively, if you know what I mean—slightly less guilt-centred, at least in that very moment. I’m not there, yet, as I always come back to the undeniable fact that I moved away from her, which sucks me back into the black hole of guilt. But I have made some little steps in reaching a place of accepting that I cannot change what happened, that my love for her never changed, and that, although I wish more than anything that I had not moved before she died, that our bond remained the same. The thought that I let her down does destroy me. It is my life’s biggest regret, and I know I will always carry it with me. I will, however, also carry my love for her, and my memories, and I do truly hope, in some way, that she really is with me, now, and can forgive me, if she is able. 

Truly, I am so thankful to you lovely people. 

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AJWCat   

As someone who lost my cat and was devastated, I try to be here for others, to "listen" (read) and offer some type of comfort as they were here when I came in. 

You sound a little better already, that is good. No doubt her spirit is with you.  

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dm1   
On 2017-10-24 at 8:13 AM, sarahmarystreet said:

Hello,

I don’t really know how to begin, or what to say. I’ve never felt anything like this, in my life, and I am a sensitive and emotional person, in the first place. This pain is almost immeasurable, it feels surreal. Last Tuesday, my soul mate died, and I wasn’t there to say goodbye. I absolutely hate myself, the guilt is killing me, and I just wish that I could be with her, again, and spend eternity with her, because the thought of death with her is so much better than the thought of living without her. 

Cleo was 19 when she died. She lived a long life, filled with love. She was the most beautiful, loving, and sensitive cat, I have ever known. She was perfect, and unique, and all her quirks that irritated others, just made me love her all the more. She was basically a self-imposed house cat. Despite constant access to the outdoors, she preferred to go out only with human company. Mostly mine. She was a family cat, but everyone knew that mine and Cleo’s love was like no other. I was her favourite, and she is mine, above all others. We had a bond and connection to each other, that I cannot even begin to think of describing with words, alone. It was just.. she was, and is, part of me. We understood each other. I didn’t look at her as a cat; she was Cleo. A beautiful, gorgeous, loving, radiant, hilarious, adorable, chubby, sensitive, warm spirit, that changed my life. I could never bring myself to fully contemplate what would happen when she died, but I never imagined that I wouldn’t be there for her. 

Last December,  I moved to Denmark to be with my Danish boyfriend, since, fiancé. With Cleo’s advancing age in mind, her well-managed chronic kidney disease, and her nervous and sensitive disposition, particularly to change, it would have been cruel to ask her to endure any kind of relocation, let alone to Denmark. From apparent stress, she once lost all the fur on her bottom half, making it appear as though she’d forgotten to put on her trousers, which was equally the most adorable and upsetting thing to see. She was just so beautifully sensitive. I wasn’t going to put her through any kind of upset, if at all possible. She would be more comfortable, secure, and safe within the walls and garden of her lifelong home, with my parents to look after her. 

Every day, I carried a sense of guilt that I had left her behind. It was the last thing I ever wanted to do. She was, and is, my one love, my light, my soul mate. There were nights where my fiancé had to rock me like a baby, as I sobbed desperately in his arms, over the distance I had created between Cleo and I. I just wanted to be with her, for her to be with me, for me to be with her. It broke my heart, every day. I would gaze lovingly at the framed photo I have of her, I would speak to her on FaceTime when contacting my parents, but it just wasn’t enough. I had seen her for three weeks in April, and for one week in the middle of August, and each time, it was increasingly impossible to leave her. Yet, leave I did. 

Last Tuesday, I received a FaceTime call from my Dad. It was odd that the call came through, considering my iPad was locked and set to 'do not disturb'. In some way, I feel like it was Cleo and our love that allowed the call to come through. Furthermore, the day before, I had heard a cat meow outside the doors to the flats. It wasn’t Cleo’s meow, but it was a meow. I looked outside, and there was nothing there. I wonder if, in some way, this, too, was a sign. 

The call was to carry the news I never wished or hoped to hear. The darkest day in my life had arrived. She was fading rapidly, she could no longer move the back half of her body, she could not and would not eat or drink, despite efforts to hydrate her using a syringe, she just could not do it. My heart broke irreparably in that very second. I am so grateful to my parents for including me as much as they physically could, for giving me the chance to say goodbye in the only way possible, given the circumstances. They warned me that she was to be taken to the vets, and that it was highly likely she would not come home, alive. I mustered up everything within me to whistle her favourite songs. She was always so responsive to whistling, and she was a Disney girl at heart. In the last couple of years, as her health changed, she took little interest in these songs. However, as I sat there, tears streaming, breath unsteady, I was able to give my rendition of 'Part of Your World'. She had been unresponsive for hours, and yet.. she was trying to lift up her head.. the twinkle of recognition palpable, despite her being near lifeless. My Dad couldn’t believe it. That moment means the absolute universe, to me. Next, I tried 'Colors of the Wind', but my sobs made it near impossible. It was the greatest joy to be able to give her that gift, and for her to know it was from me. 

I sent all my love to her, I spoke to her in loving, yet undeniably heartbroken, tones, I said everything I could think to say, all the verbal tokens of love that I had always said. But it just wasn’t enough. I asked my Dad to stroke her as I said them, to give her the kiss that I would have given, though I would not have been able to stop kissing her. I even tried to stroke the screen, as if she would feel my fingers on her skin. At one point, she was miraculously able to lift herself up to see the screen, and I have never seen anything like it, in my life. It absolutely shatters my whole existence. It is the most beautiful and heart wrenching thing, I have ever seen. That face.., she looked so different in that moment, I have never seen her look like that, before, those eyes... so large, so close to death, and so full of life and love. It’s too much. It’s too beautiful. 

Given the circumstances, and with eternal thanks to my parents, I did all that I could. But it wasn’t enough. I will never get to hear her, see her, smell her, hold her, kiss her, touch her, laugh with her, lie with her, whistle for her, feel her love and envelope her in mine, ever again.. . I couldn’t hold her paw, as my dad did for me, as she died, I couldn’t be there for the funeral. I will never be with her, again, not on earth, and it is breaking me. I am completely overcome with grief, and guilt. The guilt is corroding my heart, I have a constant physical pain. I feel as though I left her, abandoned her... that she must have hated me, she can’t have known why I wasn’t there. All she knows is that I wasn’t there when she needed me the most. I absolutely despise myself. I honestly feel like the worst human being who has ever lived. I should have never moved to Denmark, I should have waited until she had gone, because I knew she was old, and I knew she had an illness. I am disgusting. I keep begging her to forgive me, but I know I don’t deserve it. I keep saying sorry, I keep hoping she will show me, in some way, that she is okay. 

In the early hours of Monday morning, I felt a warmth between my legs as I lay cross-legged, and as I sat up, I felt as though I was able to pick up this warmth, and cradle it. I am almost convinced it was my mind trying to create some sort of comfort, but there is part of me that feels as though it was my Cleo, and just in case it was, I spoke to her. I said everything I wanted to say, and afterwards, I felt a coolness pass over my face. I noticed a shift in me, in that moment, which brought me some relief. But since then, I have completely relapsed into a suicidal state. I have panic attacks from the grief, and when I’m not crying, I just exist in a black hole of misery. I will never be able to forgive myself or live with myself for leaving my baby. 

It has been especially difficult, as my fiancé is currently working offshore, so I have had to experience this, alone. He has been amazing, through Skype calls, and he has written me the most beautiful words to try and help me see things in a different way. I couldn’t have asked for more support. My parents, who can sometimes be emotionally distant, have been wonderful, and have, obviously, been greatly touched by her death, also. I am doing as much research as I can, I have created online photo albums, made videos from the photos, I listen to her favourite song, I have gathered a few momentos to comfort myself as I try to sleep. Luckily, I have a blanket with me that she slept on, many times, which I have been holding at night. My fiancé made the suggestion that we hold a memorial when he is back, and find a lovely spot to place some memories. I am planning on framing more photos, and painting a picture of her, as I have in the past, and getting some items printed using photos of her, such as a cushion cover, and iPad case. Also, I am planning to crochet a little toy to represent her. 

When I spoke to Cleo for the last time, I made suggestions of items we could keep with her, such as a bib I had crocheted for her as a little joke, which she surprisingly enjoyed, a kitchen sponge, as she used to frequently 'murder' them, and call to let us know what a vicious killer she was, an Autumn leaf, as she used to mercilessly kill these, too. Some daisies, as we used to play and make chains with them, a tea bag, as she used to love finishing off a cup of tea using her paw, and other little knickknacks that speak of her personality, and our time together. 

I feel like all these things should add up to some way of coping, but I cannot cope. The guilt is killing me. I need to somehow atone for my disgraceful behaviour. I have begun looking at cat rescue centres. We are planning to move to a flat that allows pets, and, knowing that I will be able to give an adult cat with a hard life a home and the love it deserves, does help, somewhat. But my Cleo. I left her, and I never wanted to, I never intended to. Yet, I did. I truly am a monster, I don’t know how to live with this feeling. I would infinitely rather be with her than live without her. 

I apologise for the essay I’ve written.. I doubt many people will want to read it.. but for those of you that do, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, and wish you all the best on your own journeys to recovery after losing our best friends and soul mates.

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Oh my gosh sarahmarystreet... your story touches my heart for so many reasons. When I was approx. 10 (am currently 24) a terrified tabby showed up at my doorstep. His paws were raw and covered in scabs. It was apparent that he had never interacted with a human and was shaking in fear... after months of baby steps, he began sitting on my lap (hence why I always called him a lap cat... it was his favourite thing to do). He would stare up at me with the saddest eyes before we took him in. He would return to my doorstep routinely and soon became a member of our family. I cannot even begin to describe the relationship he and I had. My family and I always joked that he was more like a dog- he would come whenever I called... followed me everywhere... would wait at the door until I returned home. I grew up with dogs and am such an animal lover, but my sweet boy will hold a unique spot in my heart that can never be replaced. It was well-known that he was my cat, though my family members certainly loved him. We were truly the best of friends. In 2015 his health began to decline. It was heartbreaking to see him deteriorate, despite being only approx. 10 (our vet's best guess). He responded well to several medications. Given that he was medically stable my family and I decided to travel to Florida in August of 2015. This would become my biggest regret in life. We arranged a vet tech and countless sitters to care for our cat (and golden doodle) while we were gone. We remained in close contact with our sitters + vet tech throughout the trip. One particular morning I opened my bedroom door in our Florida condo and found my dad in tears (my dad did not consider himself to be much of a cat lover, but had a special relationship with ours). I learned that he had passed away in the evening. He was miles away. Our wonderful vet tech was so concerned about him that she slept by his side.... (imagine the guilt I feel, knowing that this should have been me). His passing was peaceful, she assures me that he died without pain and in his sleep...... but even as I recall the details of his passing I break down in tears. I feel truly horrendous. The fact that I was not there for his final moments is something I am learning to live with, and I struggle daily. My poor boyfriend patiently deals with my occasional sobs and the "what ifs"...  "how could I go on a holiday instead of staying with him.." "why did I spend so much time focusing on university instead of being with him..." so on and so forth. I find that speaking with my boyfriend about my grief, exercising regularly, recording detailed memories with my cat, all helps a great deal. It is the years of love and friendship that I hold onto. Those are the moments that truly count. I would give anything to have been with my cat when he took his last breath, and the pain of knowing I wasn't makes me feel like I'm going insane. I feel your grief and I relate more than ever. I know how hard it is. I know what it is like to spin in circles wishing you could just go back in time and do this differently. I think if our kitties could comfort us they would. They wouldn't want us to feel so horrendous. I am trying to live bigger and brighter now. I hope to become a foster in the near future (cannot imagine having another cat longterm- will never be the same). I can assure you that the pain will slowly get better. It is such a journey and there will be weeks that are horrendous, others that feel less gruesome. Cleo is with you and is so grateful for the years of memories. We did nothing wrong and the fact that we feel so guilty is simply indicative of our love. I hope you will try to live even brighter now in honour of her. I promise you are not alone, and it WILL be okay   xx

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KayC   
10 hours ago, dm1 said:

I would give anything to have been with my cat when he took his last breath

I feel this way about my husband when he died.  I don't know why it happens one way for one person and another for others, but my husband and I were inseparable, whenever we weren't working we were together...except the weekend he died.  I'd gone on my annual sisters' reunion and he went into the hospital with a heart attack.  He wouldn't let the doctor call me because he "didn't want to ruin my weekend".  When I did find out and got to the hospital, he had another heart attack, I notified the medical personnel, I was thrown off the ward and the door locked behind me so I couldn't be with him.  He died.  

I don't know the answer, but I hope it made it easier for him to focus on what was to come, instead of worrying about me.  I will always wish I could have been by his side, because we were always there for each other, but that wasn't my option.  He has to know I wish I could have been there and that I love him with all of my being.  We will be together again and our love continues still all these 12 years later.

10 hours ago, dm1 said:

We did nothing wrong and the fact that we feel so guilty is simply indicative of our love. 

It's true.  We were living out our ordinary lives, we had no way of knowing what would happen.  Try to let go of the guilt that serves no healthy purpose and realize that our love means we understood each other and realized each other's love.  After they pass into the hereafter, there is an awareness that is not limited to the physical limitations of this world, time is no more, there's a broadened perspective...your cat and my husband realize our love and we'll be together again.

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@dm1, thank you so much for sharing your story, and for the wonderfully kind words you wrote. I truly feel for your situation, and have the greatest sympathy and empathy for your loss. I am so pleased to know that you are trying to live life in a bigger and brighter way. You couldn’t have known what would happen, and you gave your cat all the love in the world. No animal or person could ask for any more. 

@KayC, I am truly so sorry that you were unable to be with your husband in his last moments. As you said, he absolutely must have known you would have been there if you could, with a love like yours, there is no way he didn’t know that, or how much you love him. I know you are completely right when you say you will be together again, and that your love lives on, every day. 

Every time I feel like I’ve made some progress, I find myself spiralling back down, again. At this point, I infinitely regret ever having moved to Denmark, and I cannot understand how I *ever* made a decision like that, knowing that Cleo was still alive, and how much I love her, and how much she means to me. It just doesn’t make any sense. If I’d waited ten months to move, then I would have been there for her. Maybe something would have prevented me from being there, such as work, but I would have seen her every day, and shown my love every day. I should have waited ten months, and I would have waited for years, as long as it took! I don’t know what I was thinking. My mental health is a huge cause for concern, as the idea of being with Cleo just makes so much more sense than anything else. I am really trying, but my whole life feels like it’s crashing down around me, and I just wish I could go back in time and do this last year, again. 

I'm trying to stay positive and find good things in the dark, but, my goodness.. it is hard. 

Wishing all of you the best on your journeys, and thank you, once again. 

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KayC   

If I could come back as any one of our pets, I would, for I know I would be loved and cared for as much as possible.

sarahmarystreet, I know this is hard.  Keep on trying, sometimes it looks really dark but eventually a ray of light peeks through.

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dm1   
On 2017-11-02 at 7:51 AM, sarahmarystreet said:

@dm1, thank you so much for sharing your story, and for the wonderfully kind words you wrote. I truly feel for your situation, and have the greatest sympathy and empathy for your loss. I am so pleased to know that you are trying to live life in a bigger and brighter way. You couldn’t have known what would happen, and you gave your cat all the love in the world. No animal or person could ask for any more. 

@KayC, I am truly so sorry that you were unable to be with your husband in his last moments. As you said, he absolutely must have known you would have been there if you could, with a love like yours, there is no way he didn’t know that, or how much you love him. I know you are completely right when you say you will be together again, and that your love lives on, every day. 

Every time I feel like I’ve made some progress, I find myself spiralling back down, again. At this point, I infinitely regret ever having moved to Denmark, and I cannot understand how I *ever* made a decision like that, knowing that Cleo was still alive, and how much I love her, and how much she means to me. It just doesn’t make any sense. If I’d waited ten months to move, then I would have been there for her. Maybe something would have prevented me from being there, such as work, but I would have seen her every day, and shown my love every day. I should have waited ten months, and I would have waited for years, as long as it took! I don’t know what I was thinking. My mental health is a huge cause for concern, as the idea of being with Cleo just makes so much more sense than anything else. I am really trying, but my whole life feels like it’s crashing down around me, and I just wish I could go back in time and do this last year, again. 

I'm trying to stay positive and find good things in the dark, but, my goodness.. it is hard. 

Wishing all of you the best on your journeys, and thank you, once again. 

@KayC Thank-you for your kind and compassionate words. I am so sorry to hear of the passing of your husband, and I relate to strongly to your feeling of regret... wondering why you were not there for those final moments. While I do not know you or your husband, I feel so strongly that those moments when you were "inseparable" are what matter most. I am sure both he and you will cherish them forever.

@sarahmarystreet I mentioned my golden doodle in my post to you recently. I am shocked to say that we had to euthanize him last week. He had a sizeable mass on his liver. As per the recommendation of our vet we decided that it was in his best interest not to operate, though I continued to push it, hoping that it would extend his life. He and I played all day last Thursday. He ate a massive meal, morning and night, as per usual. He has always acted like a true puppy despite being 10 years of age. Within minutes his limbs suddenly became weak. My mother and I sat with him for an hour. We hoped it was just an odd, temporary thing.. how could a dog who begged for treats only minutes prior... begged us to play all evening, suddenly seem so ill? My boyfriend rushed to the house. Our poor dog would normally sprint to the door to greet him. He managed to gather a little bit of strength and lifted his head while wagging his tail. He could not longer walk. We transported him to an emergency vet in a wagon. He was normally terrified of the vet's office, yet he gave my boyfriend and I a massive kiss on the cheek. I think he knew. The emergency vet told us that the mass burst and had begun to fill his stomach with fluid. Horrible. We all just held him and balled our eyes out. We are all so numb. Needless to say, what you are experiencing is so understandable. The world feels so different now. It is hard to capture in words, I am sure you know that gut wrenching/empty feeling.

Hope you're doing OK <3 :'(

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KayC   

@dm1

I'm so sorry to hear this, that's so hard.  How special that he gave you and your BF a kiss, they are so precious, it's beyond words.  My heart goes out to you in your loss.

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AJWCat   

@dm1 So sorry to read about your loss. It amazes me how animals will fight so hard to be well and lively. You really know when it is the end. :( My heart breaks for you. I know the gut wrenching and empty feeling all too well. 

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