This week seems like it contained years. I feel like I have been through the wringer. My headaches got much worse in their severity and duration. I decided I could no longer continue without medication so I have started on meds and I think they are already helping lessen the severity, though I have yet to stop the cluster. Mostly due to headaches and somewhat due to kids, my sleep of late has been extremely disrupted and of small quantity some nights. I think there was a span of 6 nights in which 3 nights held only patchy 4 hours of sleep, coupled with hours of awake pain. This by itself would be enough to have things feel hard, but what really made this week hard was saying goodbye to Flint. In his final days I felt quite anxious about how to best help him. His back legs had stopped working so he couldn’t really move himself around, though he tried. On Thursday, Sonia and A. took the girls out for a field trip. We explained that when they returned Flint would no longer be here. They both told him goodbye and that they loved him. The vet came to our house so Flint had his last moments on the sofa between Carl and me.
Losing Flint has been a much harder, sadder, bigger deal than I anticipated. I knew I would be sad but I didn’t predict how the sadness would come unexpectedly, such as when I realized I didn’t have to block the spare car seat so Flint wouldn’t pee on it. I didn’t realize how much I expect his presence in the evenings or how habitually I look for him in his usual places. He was with us for 15 years. Our house was never empty. Now when we are all out, the house is empty. To tell you a bit about him… he loved lettuce. It was his favorite treat aside from the dried tops of corn husks, for which he would nearly go berserk. He wasn’t so much of a lap cat, but more of a on-the-left cat. He always wanted to sit on our left. When he was a kitten, he and Carl used to battle regarding his water dish. Flint would always spill water so Carl kept trying new ways to make the water dish stable. Once, Carl put the water dish inside a dish pan. Somehow, Flint got the water dish outside of the dishpan, without spilling water! When we found Flint, we assumed that he was not available for adoption because he was so clearly (to us) the most ideal cat in the store (a store where the owner took in strays and got them ready for adoption). Aside from puking on our natural-fiber white carpet, he is still my ideal cat and I miss him terribly. Somehow I am surprised that all of the sympathy posts on Facebook and all of my tears have not brought him back to life.
Early in the week we had a super wonderful thing. A beloved volunteer from a year ago returned after a year abroad! She noted Sarah’s increased attention span and how much more language clarity and vocabulary Sarah has compared to a year ago. Sarah remembered things specific to Sc. that she hadn’t talked about in over a year.
This weekend Sarah is getting Anat Baniel Method lessons, which she has received since she was a baby. Today she told me clearly that she didn’t want me in the room during her lesson (this is awesome). She eagerly climbed onto the table, ready to watch buses while the lesson progressed.
Sarah has been giving me lots of kisses this week. It almost seems like an interactive ism, but I will totally take it!
Today I felt a bit judgy towards Sarah. I am aware that this is probably mostly due to my own hard week and not really much to do with Sarah. We also attended two parties today. Parties, for me, are always part fun and part stressful vigilance to make sure Sarah doesn’t eat something she’s not supposed to or doesn’t leave or get hurt. I am much less vigilant regarding Amy. The parties went well and everyone had a good time and it was also good that I was vigilant or else Sarah would have eaten a wheat cracker, maybe had cow milk, probably walked off down the sidewalk away from the party without adult supervision, and possibly picked up a pumpkin basket containing a lit candle. On the plus side, the girls helped Carl carve a cat face into our pumpkin. Amy mainly helped scoop out the pumpkin seeds and Sarah helped with the actual carving.
As I write, I am in pjs and drinking tea, hoping to gentle the judgy grumps out of myself and reinflate myself from the wringer.
My sadness for your dear Flint. My hope that you headaches and sleep get better. And, my appreciation that you can still recognize the beautiful and glorious moments that do happen. Savor them.