More on Letting Go- Strength in What Remains Behind

Though nothing can bring back the hour
of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower;
we will grieve not, rather find
strength in what remains behind.          William Wordsworth

Rufus the cat that hugs

The mornings are the hardest for me, I keep expecting to see a well dressed furry boy in a tux at my door, eager to enter. He is no more. Where I don't know, perhaps he's become a star. He was a star in my heart.

Those of you who read my last post know that I had to put Rufus down on Monday. As our friend Richard said, "isn't that what we're all signing up for, "Death with Dignity'?" Yes, it is. Then another piece of helpful information came from my son who had to put a beloved dog down last year. He said, "my vet coached me, telling me, 'wouldn't you rather choose the time when Albert's not in crisis so it can be a calm experience.?" Yes again. Still, the grief was awful.

Grief, that wretched experience of living through a great loss, whomps us over the head. Next it brings up all the sadness that is waiting there in your heart from the last, twenty or so very sad losses. I hate that. Too bad, it's the human condition. Pets have short lives and people you love can die unexpectedly and too soon. It truly sucks.

I knew that I was already pregrieving last week when Mr. Grout said, "I have some very sad news for you." "What?' "Our grandson accidentally knocked the answering machine off the shelf and all the messages on it were erased." "Can't you retrieve them?" "No, it's digital and they're gone." So I cried. These were messages from my grandkids as new talking babies and there were several really funny ones from my mother, though amusing to listen to---also heartbreaking to listen to her voice and long for her company. So I cried.

Also last week, we watched "True Grit", [the Cohen brothers new version] and though I witnessed ten or fifteen men get shot dead in that movie, I shed nary a tear until they had to put the horse "Blackie" down. Only then did the flood erupt. On some level, even though I was unable to admit it to myself, I knew that Rufus was not long for this world. [rather explain the entire Monday, read my post of 6/25/13]

So, my task today is to remember how privileged I was to have this little guy in my life. He not only brought me great joy and amusement but he was my faithful companion of 15 years, especially comforting to me because Mr. G was off working for the state. I owe him a big debt of gratitude.

As to who knows what happens to all of us when we die, try this: If you're looking up tonight and see an extra bright shining star, I know from whence it came. Blow a kiss.

susansmagicfeather 2013 copyright Susan R. Grout all rights reserved