Throughout the day it hits me. I’ll be working on my computer and you aren’t there to disrupt me, I’ll be falling asleep and my hand isn’t resting on your paw, your head isn’t resting on my hand. You aren’t in my face wanting to go out to your condo whenever the weather is good.

Most of all you aren’t here, ever present, on my legs while I deal with migraines, fibromyalgia, anxiety, etc. As a cat you weren’t ever trained to be a service animal but without fail when my life went off the rails you were in my lap.

When I was crying you would rub your face all over mine to tell me it was going to be okay. When I was sick and alone in the dark you would jump up on the bed and sit with me for hours. When my heart broke from losing my health, my career, my marriage, so many friends, my activities, my energy, my life you were there, loving me.

Even on the night when we had to say goodbye to you you comforted me. Your final act was to rub your little head against my chin, against Oliver’s chin. Your final act was to comfort us.

A small part of me will never forgive myself for letting you go. It doesn’t matter how many times I remind that part of myself that you were suffering, that there was no cure, that it was the right thing to do. I killed my best friend and the one creature in the world who was there for me through everything without question. I held you while they put in the medication and I held you while your life fled your body.

Now I sit with your ashes in a pretty little box. No more squeaky purr, no more midnight pillow raids, no more presence on my legs.

My emotional support cat is gone. Today I sit in my room with a massive migraine, horrible body pain, and a strange cat in my window. She doesn’t know to come to me, to curl up on me and remind me I am not alone in the world. She isn’t you.

You and I had a magical relationship. You walked out of a swamp 14 years ago and asked to come home with me and we’ve been thick as thieves ever since. I have hand made your cat food, taken you on walks in the mountains, and spent countless hours simply enjoying your presence.

Losing you is one of the hardest things I have ever had to go through. I feel your loss every minute of the day and I can’t imagine a time when I don’t miss you. A part of me died with you and the cruelty of death is there is never any going back.

I love you so much Hazel. Thank you for being a constant source of comfort, a bright spot of joy, and the best friend a person could ever want to have.

Sometimes I can’t just pick up and move through my day. Today is one of those days.

Everything hurts, even typing this post is painful.

I want to make things, I have promises to keep to people. I want to spend time with people.

I need to go to First Friday.

I can’t seem to get out of my jammies.

The world is sharp and harsh and I am just sad.

I was super smart this year. I managed my spoons brilliantly but I still landed on my ass energy wise. Is there a way to celebrate the holidays in the traditions of my youth without needing a week to recover?

I made Thanksgiving dinner for 7 this year. In order to reduce stress about presentation I only invited family (our two neighbors whom we call family and who see my home in disarray all time were included as well).

My kids and husband helped me clean the dining room and get ready for the day a couple days before. I cleaned the bathroom two days before. I baked the pies two days before. I made the cranberry sauce the day before. I also showered the day before because that can set off my headache and I wanted to be able to relax a little.

Day of I slept in. When I woke up my son helped me chop all the veggies and prep all the ingredients for food. We used store bought rolls and pre-packaged GF stuffing mix. I put the peeled and chopped potatoes in the pressure cooker for the mashed potatoes so they would cook quickly and stay warm. I put the turkey – that my husband had lovingly prepped for me – into the oven. I pre-mixed the stuffing and set it aside to bake in the last hour. I put the chopped carrots in the honey glaze and set it to cook on low.

Then I sat around and waited for the final hour to happen. The kids set the table. I just checked on food and talked with family.

When the last hour arrived I tossed the stuffing in the oven, mashed the potatoes with a wand mixer, and turned the carrots up a bit.

We ate, my guests did dishes, I put away food. I went to bed at a reasonable hour.

Yesterday I felt like I had been run over by a truck. Today I feel like I fell down a flight of stairs. Everything is inflamed and stiff and I hurt all over. I am exhausted.

I can blame the migraine on the weather but damnit. I should be in better condition. I was careful. I managed well.

Is it possible to achieve holiday bliss and not suffer or should I set the expectation of take out for Christmas?