January 2, 2011
"How fleeting this all can be." Those were the words my friend Sarah shared after our friend Kristin's father died in a skiing accident on the winter solstice. It's unbearable for me to think about losing my father, particularly at a younger age than what I typically associate with death. Kristin shared what it was like for her to wake up on Christmas and not have her father there making banana waffles and acting silly in a Santa outfit. The lack of physical presence...that's the heart wrenching, aching part of loss.
The end of the year and the beginning of winter certainly seemed to mark the end of life in many circles.
My mom and dad's kitty, our beloved Elliot experienced her last day of life on this earth on December 31, 2010. She was nearly 20 years of age. I was on speaker phone with the rest of my family (sans Hava) at the veterinarian's office when Elliot was taken in to be put to sleep. "Put to sleep." Those words. A euphemism I'm grateful for, yet so terminal sounding. Hearing the tech describe what would happen as Elliot was injected broke my heart and I instantly felt like I was there with my family. It brought me back to the painful day of having to put our beloved Lily to sleep, our cat of eight short years. Surreal. An unbearable choice. And something I never wanted to have to do again.
Elliot...I remember the day we brought her home as a kitten....her tiny, lengthy, meow. My heart is heavy just thinking about walking into my parent's house without seeing her mysterious, stoic little body....her quiet strength....her beautiful green eyes and fluffy, full grey hair. The way she used to paw out for more brushing of the hair when I'd stop to give my hand reprieve. Cancer took her away from us, but her spirit will never leave us.
Daily Puddletown Musings
