SAYING GOODBYE—AGAIN

Composition by Norman Katze

A few weeks ago I published a blogpost, The Care Toll, about friends’ cats who had recently crossed the Rainbow Bridge. What I didn’t know then was that one of my own would be so soon to follow.

Jaimz was sick when I adopted him two and a half years ago. That was part of the reason he came to me. His doctor at the shelter had deemed him “unadoptable” because of this hyperthyroid disease and underlying kidney failure. Unadoptable meant euthanasia unless I, as his foster person, agreed to adopt him instead. Even before I was given this ultimatum, however, I had made the decision. The little gray cat who had been through so much was already part of our family, and I took him with joy and love.

You can read Jaimz’s story here: The Story of Jaimz, a cat Abandoned and The Story of Jaimz Part 2

Obviously, he was not as near to death’s door as the vet had predicted. With help from a more gracious veterinary team and continuing loving care, he’s had a good long time to run and jump, to play with Tyler, to eat treats and food of his choosing, to sleep curled up with me at night and naps. Those things have sadly come to an end, and it’s finally time for him to go.

Every loss is unique, every sadness acute, every grief burned into our consciousness forever. But in time, the memories we cherish rise to the top. With Jaimz, it will be soft fur, quiet persistence, and gratitude.  Always.

Is this how it feels

to lose a part

of my body?

The searing pain

of separation,

The lingering throb

of the phantom limb,

The world,

empty and unbalanced.

Grief covers me like a shroud,

then pierces my heart as I remember

why I’m grieving.

 

Tears are not enough

to wash away

the loss.

 

—Jaimz 08/09/23