I know as a believer in Jesus I’m supposed to be able to look beyond “this mortal veil” and treat death as a mere “address change”.
Well, I can’t.
Death is the enemy and I do not experience it as simply a transition from one state to another.
The last enemy to be abolished and put to an end is death.
~I Corinthians 15:26 AMP
Death is a reminder of all that is wrong with this earth. It’s a reminder that sin is costly. It’s a reminder that this world is not my true home.
It’s just plain wrong!
I hated death long before I counted my own son among the casualties.
Living on a farm, we have buried everything from domestic livestock to random wildlife that wandered up, wounded and we tried to save. I have hatched eggs found in disturbed nests, loved on baby rabbits, squirrels, deer and woodchucks, nursed abandoned kittens, lambs and goat kids. Many of them didn’t survive and every one took a bit of my heart when they breathed their last.
I have said “good-bye” to my 99 year old aunt, my grandmothers, my grandfathers and my own son.
There is nothing pretty about death. It wasn’t in God’s original plan and I hate it.
Lately, I’ve been worrying about my “therapy” cat-Roosevelt. He’s aging. And all things being equal, he won’t last much longer.
He sat in my lap as I recovered from numerous surgeries and hospitalizations.
And he stayed with me as I received concerned family and friends when Dominic ran ahead to Heaven. I don’t know what I would have done without his warm weight holding me in the chair when all I wanted to do was run away and hide.
He has been a compassionate companion in many sad and lonely moments-never asking for a thing and giving so much with his presence and unconditional love.
Every night he sleeps beside me, snuggled down tight against my neck, purring peacefully.
But he’s getting old and I am becoming fearful that I don’t have too many more years left with him. I hate that most nights I drift off to sleep thinking he won’t be here much longer.
And then I feel guilty.
Because the death of my cat (when it happens) can’t begin to touch the depth of pain of the death of my son. It seems, though, that every death taps that wounded spot in my soul.
But every death-whether a person or an animal I love-opens the floodgate of sadness I work so very hard to keep behind the dam.
I know I’m not supposed to borrow trouble from tomorrow and I work hard not to do that.
I’m working hard to cherish each moment with everyone I love without worrying that it may be one of the last.
It’s a fine line I walk every day.
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thelifeididntchoose 
I am new to your blog , but, find each post spot on to my wrestles. We lost our 24 year old son , Jonah, October 10, 2019. Thanks for writing and sharing. ❤️
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Thank you for your blog everyday. It touched me today because we just had to but to sleep our beloved Lucy (yellow lab). She was 12 1/2 and pretty much was our daughters dog. Lucy was born from my sisters dog so our daughter was part of this dogs life from the beginning. She had been there for christy even taking in symptoms of cancer before we knew christy had cancer in a large tumor. She has been our therapy dog after losing christy to aggressive ovarian cancer that spread so rapidly. She was gone in 7 short weeks. Losing Lucy was hard but I smile because I know she is with our daughter in heaven❤️ One day we will get another Lab but for now we will just give our extra love to our two remaining dogs. Thank you again for all your post. I share them with another grieving mom.
Blessing to you from a mom that understands your loss.
Christys mom forever.
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Since Amanda passed, death has greater depth. Even on those who passed long ago brings the pain to the forefront. Once, it was never even an afterthought. Knowing the closeness of death brings out the closeness of love. Hugs.
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🙏🏻
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Melanie, you write my heart ❤️
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Yes. I love that prayer
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Roosevelt looks the treasure he has been to you Melanie. I marvel at how they just know when you need them. Sadly our therapy cat died 8 months after Luke.
It’s difficult to stop ourselves future triping into all sorts of worries. Like you I try not to but it’s hard work isn’t it?
A prayer came to mind as I read your post, it was a favourite of a preist of our parish. I haven’t heard it spoken in Mass for many years. I can hear him saying but today I saying it aloud for you.
“May the light of Christ rising in splendour, scatter the darkness in our hearts and minds. And may the breath of His love keep you warm in the joy of His presence and fill you with blessings.”
❤
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What a beautiful and perfect prayer! Thank you for sharing it. I know it will be one I share as well from now on. ❤️
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