Thursday, 12 December 2013
Dear Alex, Old faithful … Time has run out.
I do not know if you will ever remember this, ever understand this, ever 'get' this… I am on my own in this. But time has run out.
I sleep on the sofa, well, I have Oliver on the one side, one of the cats on the other, I am still in my clothes, after the nativity performances, from Mitzi and Esmie tonight, and getting in late, 9pm was when I got them roughly to sleep in my room. Two on the floor, two in my bed, I have realised, so painfully, heart dragging that this is my last night with our old faithful.
He pants beside me. He has let me know he cannot do this anymore and tomorrow (well, as I type it is today) I will call the vets and ask them to come out and make him sleep for eternity.
And you are not here, cannot be here.
So I type.
I cry and I type, the Christmas tree lights flash.
They flash on and off, on and off, like it should all be just like this. As simple as that. As accepting as that.
On, off, whatever comes, whatever goes, we should be in this and absorb it and know this and know this life lasts for a mere breath in the 'bigger picture' although it is our lifetime whilst we are here and in human body.
So the vet is coming at 1.30pm.
Tick tock, heart pounding.
Lonely and waiting.
Lonely and waiting with no you, Alex, to put your strong arms around me and make it that bit better.
Oliver who has been there for 2 months before I met you, right to our fullstop. Our place where we will be forever. He has been with me, come full circle, single, messed up me, to complete finding you, then having our family, now in Devon, living the life we must.
I have to protect you from another thing Alex, you cannot protect me anymore, and this stings particularly today.
Oliver, my best friend, how I will miss you old boy…
See you again one day xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Posted by Manic Mum at 20:34