Coping with this Empty Space
What shall I do to fill
This empty space?
True, I have memories-wonderful memories
But somehow they make me feel
THE VOID
So much more profoundly
People wrote and came to visit
Offering their condolences
And for awhile, at least, I felt
Comforted
Letting go is not easy
I want YOU, not the memories of you
They are a lasting tribute to how special
You were…. (are?)
You were and always will be
An important part
Of my life and I will always
Miss you
How could I not?
Perhaps filling
The Void
Is not the right thing to do.
Maybe by keeping it,
Occasionally
Dwelling in it
I can keep you with me.
Maybe the pain isn’t in
the void
I perceive it.
You are gone,
Hopefully to a
Better Place
I will never be the same again.
But even if you were still here,
I would have changed,
For such is
The Substance of Life.
I will make
The Space in my heart
My Tribute to you!
I will remember you—
I may even talk to you
Upon occasion
Letting the void
Speak.
It does, you know.
Your voice is there,
Offering comfort
Support
Advice
Your face is there, too
Smiling
Laughing
It’s funny—I need to try to recall
How long it’s been.
I see that as a good sign
Your death has ceased to be
As important to me
As your Life.
I still miss you
the void
Is still there, as no one can replace
What you filled in My Life
No one should have to.
Knowing that tells me—and you—
How very much you will always mean to me.
The Void is for your physical presence
But it is almost filled by the Memories of You--
Almost.
The Emptiness is my Tribute to you—
Your Memorial.
It is a Lasting Monument I built
And as such,
Though it holds pain
It also holds beauty
For it is a token of
All we shared.
I love you.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Buddy
On the day my father died, he asked, "Who let the cat in here. I hate cats, please take the cat out." We assured him that there were no cats. When he died a few hours later, we all heard meowing. We were all home and knew Dad had lost his battle with cancer. A week to the day later, Sept 18, 2009, was Dad's big memorial service. I was living at the home he shared with Mom and was awakened by a plaintive meowing. I got up and went outside. I called, "Here, Kitty, kitty!" and this little cat ran up and jumped into my arms. I brought him inside. My mother said, "We haven't even had your father's services yet!" I assured her I didn't intend to keep him, that perhaps our neighbors who had cats might want him. We called, and I took the kitten over on the golf cart for them to see. I told the woman the story, and she said she didn't want to take him until a vet gave him a clean bill of health, but she had friends who might. When I told her the story about dad, she advised keeping the cat, saying the two were linked. When her friends called a few minutes later, mom explained what was going on and asked that they call back later in the week. They never did.
At the Memorial Service, mom told friends about the cat. They all said we had to keep him, that dad had sent the cat. Even friends who knew that dad HATED cats said the same thing. So, the cat stayed.
I took the cat to the vet for evaluation, declawing, and shots. He guessed his birthday was late July. My paternal grandmother, who also died that year, was born on July 22. She was not overly fond of cats, either. yet there was another link. We became a cat family. I named the cat Buddy. A few months later, we added Callie the Calico. They stayed with me when I moved into my own place.
Two weeks ago, we lost Buddy. He had been losing weight, despite eating. he seemed to have trouble gauging distances and stopped jumping up on the bed or on my desk. If I lifted him up and he jumped down, his hind legs didn't' want to support him. Still he remained a happy cat who wanted to be near me.
One night, after I had completed work for an online class, I picked Buddy up from where he was laying in the doorway and carried him to the bedroom. He went to the other side of the room and laid down with his back against my husband's nightstand. I worried that he might get stepped on, but figured he would move. I took a shower and went to bed. About an hour later, KC, the latest cat, awoke me because she was playing with a bag. I got up to throw the bag away and spotted Buddy in front of the slider having a seizure. I picked him up and he seemed to calm down, so I laid on the bed with him on my stomach. He'd stop seizing, purr when I petted him, and then the seizures would start again. I was sobbing. My husband woke up and wanted to know what was wrong. I told him and asked for a towel to put under Buddy, just in case. He wanted to know what we could do. I asked him to call the vet. Buddy was having seizure after seizure. It was 2AM. He called the vet and we got dresses to go. Buddy's seizures slowed down some. I held him down where Callie and Peanut and KC could smell him. All three cats rubbed noses with him. Callie licked him. We got in the car.
Half way there, Buddy took a big sigh. He looked at me and his body went limp. He still breathed, but I know he was no longer fully there. His eyes remained fixed on my face as we drove. When we got out at the vet, it was clear that only his body remained. The vet gave him an injection in the liver. I pet Buddy as he breathed his last. His eyes never seemed to leave my face.
We had him cremated. His remains are in a beautiful pine box. We were given a plaster medallion with his paw print. I am glad the ground was too hard for burial and that I can now keep him with me. I really do believe that Dad and Grandma sent him. He was my friend in the toughest period of my life. He slept by me almost every night, and thank to him, I felt my dad and grandma were with me. His death makes me miss them all, but I know they are all together. When I get down, I smile thinking about whose lap he sat in first.
At the Memorial Service, mom told friends about the cat. They all said we had to keep him, that dad had sent the cat. Even friends who knew that dad HATED cats said the same thing. So, the cat stayed.
I took the cat to the vet for evaluation, declawing, and shots. He guessed his birthday was late July. My paternal grandmother, who also died that year, was born on July 22. She was not overly fond of cats, either. yet there was another link. We became a cat family. I named the cat Buddy. A few months later, we added Callie the Calico. They stayed with me when I moved into my own place.
Two weeks ago, we lost Buddy. He had been losing weight, despite eating. he seemed to have trouble gauging distances and stopped jumping up on the bed or on my desk. If I lifted him up and he jumped down, his hind legs didn't' want to support him. Still he remained a happy cat who wanted to be near me.
One night, after I had completed work for an online class, I picked Buddy up from where he was laying in the doorway and carried him to the bedroom. He went to the other side of the room and laid down with his back against my husband's nightstand. I worried that he might get stepped on, but figured he would move. I took a shower and went to bed. About an hour later, KC, the latest cat, awoke me because she was playing with a bag. I got up to throw the bag away and spotted Buddy in front of the slider having a seizure. I picked him up and he seemed to calm down, so I laid on the bed with him on my stomach. He'd stop seizing, purr when I petted him, and then the seizures would start again. I was sobbing. My husband woke up and wanted to know what was wrong. I told him and asked for a towel to put under Buddy, just in case. He wanted to know what we could do. I asked him to call the vet. Buddy was having seizure after seizure. It was 2AM. He called the vet and we got dresses to go. Buddy's seizures slowed down some. I held him down where Callie and Peanut and KC could smell him. All three cats rubbed noses with him. Callie licked him. We got in the car.
Half way there, Buddy took a big sigh. He looked at me and his body went limp. He still breathed, but I know he was no longer fully there. His eyes remained fixed on my face as we drove. When we got out at the vet, it was clear that only his body remained. The vet gave him an injection in the liver. I pet Buddy as he breathed his last. His eyes never seemed to leave my face.
We had him cremated. His remains are in a beautiful pine box. We were given a plaster medallion with his paw print. I am glad the ground was too hard for burial and that I can now keep him with me. I really do believe that Dad and Grandma sent him. He was my friend in the toughest period of my life. He slept by me almost every night, and thank to him, I felt my dad and grandma were with me. His death makes me miss them all, but I know they are all together. When I get down, I smile thinking about whose lap he sat in first.
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