Today, I’m an emotional mess. I thought things were getting better, that I was moving forward. But I’m not. Last night, I cleaned up his food and water bowls. Today, I took his food, toys, and treats to the local animal shelter. And in some ways, I’m happy: he’s helping other kitties. But in so many ways, it makes me sad all over again.
It’s so permanent with everything I do. Cleaning up his litter box. Collecting his toys and food. Donating to the local shelter. Donating his insulin and needles to a friend.
Donating things makes me happy. I tend to hoard stuff and have a hard time parting with it. But when I do, it makes me happy to help someone else. And donating Hamlet’s stuff makes me happy, because he’s helping other kitties. But it also makes me sad, because he doesn’t need them anymore.
I miss him. I know how death works, but that doesn’t mend my broken heart. A friend shared a video with me today and while it made me cry harder than I’ve cried in a few days, it’s so true. I know he’s some place better, I know he’s not sick anymore. He’s found some friends, hopefully, to run with. Maybe he reunited with my mom’s cat for middle-of-the-night races around the house. I can just hear my mom’s cat’s paws (click, click, click) and then Hamlet’s (thump, thump, thump), running through the house. I’ve got great memories of our years together. But my heart is still broken. And part of me doesn’t think it will ever mend.