A Month

It’s been a month since you’ve passed, Sunny. For the most part, I can say that the days are getting easier to get through. But it’s actually a lot easier to say that than to actually feel like that. I do have my ups and my downs over what happened; there’s no doubt about it. I’m still trying to piece together everything that happened, and I think that’s the hardest part. I suppose I’m comfortable knowing you’re in a better place; probably chilling with Romeo somewhere up there. But I still have trouble grasping the fact that such a beautiful young cat had to go so early. I just don’t understand it. Not one bit of it. And that’s the hardest part of it all.

I understand you got sick and that’s why we had to make that decision to put you to sleep. It was the right thing to do; you couldn’t suffer any longer. But still, how could such a wonderful and innocent cat like you get that sick in the first place? There wasn’t an ounce of wrong in you. There was absolutely no reason for any of the events that transpired. I have difficulty with that.

Every morning before I leave for work I go to your bed and tell you how much I miss you. I suppose it’s my way of getting some form of comfort out of all of this. I know you’re not physically there, but you’ll always be in that bed in our hearts and minds. And that bed will always be there to remind us about you.

We’ve kept your favorite toy in that bed; birdy on a string. No one has touched it since you passed. But the other morning, we randomly heard it chirping. Of course your brother finally found it and decided to make it his after all this time (and lets not forget that he was once afraid of the thing, too). It was a good feeling hearing it chirp; it certainly reminded us of you and how you used to constantly play with it. Later that evening as we went to bed, your mom went to lay down only to discover that birdy on a string was now on her side of the bed. We had a good laugh about it, too. But I can’t help and think that Macky put it there to comfort us even more.

I’m still so sorry for everything that happened to you, Sunny. I have this guilt on my shoulders that it was all my fault and every day I’m continually apologizing to you in my head. I just cannot still comprehend everything and I don’t think I ever will, either. I hope the G-O-D is treating you well up there — he’s got a lot he can learn from you.

We picked up your remains the other night, Sunny.  It was much harder than I had expected.  While it does feel good knowing you’re home, I still cannot fathom that you’re actually gone.  It’s been just over a week since you passed; I want to say I’m okay, but I’m not.  They gave us a piece of paper with your paw print on it.  It’s by far the sweetest thing.  We cannot wait to be able to frame it and have another item to remember you by.

The hospital gave us a poem in your box.  Your mom tried handing it to me the other night to read, but I just couldn’t do it.  I felt bad pushing her away with it, but I just didn’t know how else to deal with these emotions.  I don’t know if I hurt her by not reading it.  I was just entirely filled with emotions that night.  I haven’t been able to fully cope with what occurred.  One day, I’m okay, the next, and I just break down.  I’ve been trying to be there for your mother as much as possible, though.  She misses you terribly.  I miss you terribly.  Macky misses you terribly, as well, even though he is standing right next to me shaking his paw up and down because his favorite ball is stuck within his paw.  He’s crazy, I know.

We’ve put your remains on your little bed, right next to the “reserved for boo-boo” sign.  It’s certainly comforting to know you’re resting in one of your favorite spots.  Though, to be honest, I’m quite nervous that Macky will find a way to open your box and proceed to use you as his litter box.

Speaking of your brother, Macky and I have become quite good at playing fetch.  He improves every day, and makes us think more and more each day that he’s actually a dog.  We picked up a remote control mouse to keep him occupied while we’re trying to relax.  So far, he loves it.  Though, I do think he just misses being chased by you.  Or just misses chasing you.  Either way, he misses you.  Mowie, on the other hand, just wants to eat.  But what else is new.

Rest well, buddy.  We miss you.

Dearest Sunny

It seems like just yesterday we were on our way home from our cruise to pick up two adorable little kittens. You two were so tiny, and so fluffy, but best of friends. Both of you quickly adapted to condo life and found instant spots on the bed, under my desk, and on the couch.

The both of you were inseparable. When you guys were tiny little kittens, you would climb into a ball together and sleep in the corner underneath my desk. As you got older, the cuddling did decrease, but you still managed to fall asleep together throughout the place — on the bed, on our computer chairs, the ottoman, etc.

And then you guys found the eagle’s nest; the area above our kitchen that you guys would climb up to. At first, we were a nervous wreck with you guys up there. Well, we were more nervous for Macky. He’s very fragile, so we could definitely see him falling off the ledges. Actually, he did fall off and surprisingly, he lived to tell the tale. But coming home and opening the door to find the sweetest orange cat dangling his head down looking at us may just be the greatest welcoming we’ve ever encountered. I miss that so very much about you, Sunny. You were so sweet, and even the times when you were extremely tired, you’d still hang your little face over to say hello. And then promptly go back to sleep. I keep expecting to come home to see your little face there, and it breaks my heart that I will never see that again. Sunny, just so you know, Macky refuses to go up there these days. He hasn’t been up there, not at all.

But thank god for the countless pictures. I am so fortunate to have so many of you; especially the one’s up there in the eagle’s nest. And the ones of you on the couch, in several different sleep positions. And the ones of you in the bathroom sink, or the ones of you looking at yourself in the mirror. And the ones of you tucked underneath our covers in the bed. We have so many pictures of you, and I think those pictures will be the thing that gets me through all of this.

Whenever I think about you, I keep apologizing to you. I am so truly sorry for what you went through. I am so truly sorry that you are no longer with us — though I’m sure you’re still watching over Macky trying to tell him between right and wrong (and so far, he’s been very good). You were such a young cat who didn’t deserve any of this. You were this amazing social butterfly who loved company. I’ve never seen a cat so anxious to be around people. You loved being the center of attention.

There was this one time when we had people over. They were teasing you with the bird on the string toy and making you go around, and around, until you were dizzy. Rebecca and I felt so bad for you; we didn’t think you realized how dizzy you were getting. So, we scooped you up while everyone was laughing and brought you to the bedroom. We walked back into the living room to tell everyone the fun was over and to be kind to Sunny. Sure enough, who came trotting down the hallway wanting more? You, Sunny. They all cheered for you; you were having the time of your life with them.

I’m having the fireplace cleaned in the next week or so. Every time I look at that area, all I can think about is how you go into such a mess by being curious. You went from being bright orange to Macky-black; covered from head to toe in ash. We wanted to be mad, but we couldn’t. You had such a cute look on your face as we tried cleaning you up. I think that black ash stayed on your fur for several days after that — Macky swore for days that he had a black brother.

We haven’t touched your brown bed in the bedroom. We put a little sign on it last week saying “reserved for boo-boo” when we were anticipating your arrival home. I don’t think we’ll ever take that sign off of it. It’ll always be reserved for you; it’ll always be your bed.

Sunny, there is so much more I want to say to you. But the tears are overwhelming my eyes, and I’ll have to save that more for another time. Plus, Macky wants to play. And you know how he gets when he wants to play. So, lets consider this part one of an ongoing conversation.

I miss you so much, buddy. This is by far the hardest time in my life. I do find comfort, however, in the fact that I know you’re no longer suffering. We’re always thinking about you, and we’ll never forget about you.

Until next time, Sunny, tell God to go easy on the earthquakes in China.