I dreamed about Miss Biddy last night.
Miss Biddy
I was standing in the yard when an animal with black fur walked up. It looked like a dog, but I called out Miss Biddy's name. She appeared, but was not that creature. She let me pick her up and asked me to save her, but I could not, and she disappeared.
This dream unnerved me, because I have felt like I let her down. I have that list of "shoulds" that haunts my brain: I should have taken her to an emergency vet. I should have paid more attention and may have seen signs that she was sick earlier. I should have paid for the vet team to do whatever they could to save her.
None of these are realistic. I'm not a reader of cats' minds. And even if I did have the money for all that vet stuff, she was so sick. I ask myself would I want someone to do that to me, and the answer is no. So why would I do that to Miss Biddy?
I don't understand why I have a fear of death. We all die. And unlike many of you, I believe that that's the end of things. I will live on in my words, but that's about it. Actually, I never understood why those who profess to believe in an afterlife fear dying. But that's a topic for another day.
Grief is hard on me. I was more prepared for what was to come, since I had just gone through it with Little Girl. I feel physical pain, and overwhelming fatigue. I had taken this past week off and had lots of plans, but none of them materialized. Instead I have stuck close to home. I bought food that's easy to prepare and is comforting. I did some cleaning, and I'm going to work in the yard today to prepare for the cooler temps coming our way tomorrow. But I had planned to do a lot of gig work to build up my savings; instead I haven't worked any and I spent much of what I did have.
Little Girl
I have read books and articles about grieving and while they provide insight, the process is different for each of us. For me it's sadness, then anger/guilt, and eventually, acceptance. I compartmentalize my feelings, so that's not a 24/7 thing for me. Instead it pops up in my dreams, and when I write. And because I loved Miss Biddy and Little Girl, I don't hide from my grief. It's the last gift I can give them.
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