Updates

Not much really to report.

I've had my brother Gordon on my mind the past few days. This has been reinforced by the fact that my spotify playlist keeps playing songs Gordon played into the ground. I swear at one point in my life if I head Rascal Flats' "Life is a Highway" one more time I was gonn jump out of the moving car.

Father's Day is coming up, and that is just another reminder that Dad is no longer with us. Grief is wierd, you go months without thinking of someone you lost and then you hear a song or see something that makes you think of them and that scab is ripped right off the scar. I can't get over how the pain, when remembered, is as strong as the day it happened.

Connections. And this will be vague. Why do I find myself drawn to the unobtainable? Why is something I want 3,635 km away? Logistics are being worked on, so we will see how that comes out.

I Miss My Lap Cat

Tomorrow, July 20th, would have been Sansa's 6th birthday. Five months later and I am still questioning what I could have done differently.

I've looked up signs of what cats typically do when they are sick. One of those is hiding. She never hid. Any time I sat down she was in my lap purring away.

How did I not notice she was sick? If I had noticed sooner, could it have kept her alive? How could I miss any sign that she was in distress? Was I a bad cat parent for not noticing? Why do I keep blaming myself? What could I have done different?

I am emotionally and mentally exhausted. When I am not at work, all I want to do is sleep. And then I'm reminded of how she always slept with me. Always wanted to be curled up under the blanket with me. So, when I do sleep, I don't sleep well. I go to bed, and I wake up feeling like 6 or 7 hours have passed, and it's only been 2.

And then there is Odin. He has been more affectionate and playful since Sansa left us. At the same time, you can tell he misses her. There are periods of the day where he roams the house looking for something, crying out.

People ask me if I will ever get another kitten. Part of me wants one, and part of me is afraid I will fail a new kitten the same way I failed Sansa.

And that seems to be the core. No matter what any one tells me, I feel as if I completely failed her. I feel as if I should have done/noticed more to help her. I feel as in her last days, weeks she didn't know why I wasn;t helping her.

Yes, I know way too much thought and emotion to attribute to a cat, but then again how do we know? How do I know?

How do I get past this? This is as much grief as it is me tearing myself apart and blaming myself, and I CAN'T.GET.PAST.IT.