Hours later…

It was a hard morning to say the least.   I was numb on the drive home.  When I went to get out of the car, I looked at the leash on the passenger seat and was surprised that I didn’t burst into tears.

I left it though as my intention is to take what is donatable to the local shelter.

I came in, and by instinct I looked and listened for him.   Old habits.

I sat down to write the eulogy, then I set to cleaning.  I am normally domestically challenged and my cleaning efforts usually end when I need to go check something on the computer.   But, there was cleaning that absolutely had to be done.    I did that, and I went around the kitchen and either put Shel’s stuff in the garbage, or in a bag of donations.   I pushed around a mop mindlessly (and ineffectively) and went back and forth the computer.

My dad called.  I smiled when he said, “Son, your mother told me that you didn’t want to be bothered but I disobeyed her.”.   Mom was right of course (she knows me well) as I almost didn’t answer the phone, but 5 minutes later I don’t think I could’ve loved my dad more.   He commiserated, we talked, and I felt better.

I sat at the computer for awhile…I don’t remember what I was doing…well…I re-read the eulogy about 100 times…and looking at his pictures made me smile.

I kept glancing around and suddenly I realized why.   I wasn’t hearing him so I was checking to see if he was okay.

I decided then and there to get the hell out of the house to go buy a new computer desk that would fit in the living room.

I ended up at Staples and found one that would fit my 2 monitors and room for my stuff that was fairly inexpensive.

I grabbed something to eat and wrestled the desk (un-assembled) into my apartment.

I ate, and relaxed for a bit.   Every two weeks I have an hour long appointment with my therapist, Roberta, and that was today.   She is a truly remarkable person and has helped me come so far since I started seeing her over a year ago.  We sat and talked about what had been going on, I talked to her about my thought processes.    I mention a tree I was looking at this morning when I was thinking about “treating the whole patient”.  She stopped me to ask what about the tree had caught my attention.   It was barren, covered in snow against a gray sky.  Desolate and beautiful all at the same time.

And that is the crux of how I feel.   If you watched the South Park thing, you will know the term “Beautiful Sadness”.

Feeling better, I returned home and began the process of migrating my computer to the livingroom.   There were more tears, but that was mostly at trying to understand the assembly instructions for the desk.   I did catch myself checking to make sure I wasn’t going to dump something on a sleeping dog…but old habits.

I know this may confuse a lot of people.   But while this is one of the saddest days of my life, it is also one of the happiest.

An email I received from a friend explains it all:

It’s telling how much you love him and how hard it was to let him move on.  It’s telling that you helped him go on when it wasn’t an easy thing for you.   It’s so tempting, so easy to make these choices as to how they make only you feel.  Shel is voiceless but for the voice you impart him.  So you had to speak for him and help him with the choice you know he opts for.   Hard, gruesome hard, but that ease you felt was him thanking you for hearing him and having the courage to heed.

That was all about him.  It can be all about you now, which is how shel chose to live his life, by the way:   All for you.

Last note.   There is depression due to an imbalance of humors and there is sadness due to something sad.   Please don’t feel you need Illbutron (deliberate pun) to mask or overcome what SHOULD be a sad moment.   Let yourself be sad.   It’s okay.  It’s not wallowing.  It’s not crippling.   You love him and it’s sad.  It’s sad just writing about it to you.  Don’t make it something you have to escape from.   It’s not.  It’s the tithe you accepted when you let him in.  Be joyous to pay your due; a final tribute to the little bastard.  He earned it.  So did you.  

We won’t let it get out of hand.   We’re watching over you.   Shelby most of all.  Donate his food bowl all you want, he isn’t leaving and you know it.  

Just breathe.  The click of his claws remains.   That’s his own due, paid to you.  He is there.  He is home. 

I received some very nice emails, and some of them made me cry, thank you for each and every one of them.

There is still the occasional tear…and the sharp jab of loneliness that my 2 cats will only fill if the decide they need something.  But mostly the tears are of happiness for my friend, who no longer feels pain.


I’ll tell you now that I do have a blog entry I started a couple of weeks about about how Shelby had realized that I was onto one of his pro-zombie compatriots and his attempts to distract me.
When I’m ready, I will finish it, and post it…because I think he’d like that.





3 thoughts on “Hours later…

  1. Now that is a damn good friend!!! And Shelby brought you to Kharma and Colarado. For if it wasn’t for him, they would never have the love they have from you. I miss the dogs I have lost everyday. It’s so hard to lose them. 💖

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