Don't Interrupt the Sorrow ...

The Sorrow of Love
(Source)

Tuesday was an emotional day, Anya's ashes came home, which completely took the wind out of my sails.

A horrible dream on Monday night, "they" had lost her ashes and I feared she would not find us. A primitive fear, but very real to me. Sleep was fleeting and disturbed. Much like the night before her final trip to the vet.

Before lunch, something told me to make a phone call, so I did, to our vet. When they answered they said, "Ah, we left you a message to call us, Anya is here."

Yes, I know, she wasn't there, but what remains was. Important to us as we mean to have our cats with us when we travel to the other side. Not having her ashes would have left me bereft.

I was in the main lobby of our building at work. I thanked the lady, she sounded sad, no doubt she's made that call many times. I stood there for a moment after hanging up, emotions bubbling up, but I took a deep breath and went about the rest of the day. A short one but a tough one nevertheless.

I left early to pick her up, remembering the last time I went there. This was different but nearly as hard.

She's home now, spiritually and physically.

As we did with our cat family members before - Tiger, Pat, Sasha, and now Anya - we can mourn, we can eventually recover and think of all of the happy times together. Nearly thirty years worth.

It's a time to mourn, a time to remember, and yes, even a time to cry.

More Waterloo on the 'morrow ...

But not right now.

Peace.