Tuesday, July 27, 2004


I can't get over how quickly Stimpy went. Maybe that is why my grief is so palpable. Tuesday he went to the vet. Wednesday we found he was sick. Sunday he was dead. Not even a week. No time to come to terms with the news he was sick and wouldn't survive. He wasn't in hospital for weeks or months, where the only option was sleep. He was purring on the table. He was meowing and showing life. Was he telling us it was ok? That it was time to go? Or was he asking for a chance to get better? Did we take away his life without giving him a chance??
Oh god. And I wasn't there. My baby was waiting for his mommy to come and hold him and I wasn't there. I wasn't there because I thought about another. About those around me and how it would hurt them if I went. I didn't think of myself and how it hurts now because I didn't. Damn him, damn you all. Glenn, Jon, everyone. Damn you all. Damn you Glenn for telling me the details. For making me feel guilt because I couldn't come. Damn you Jon for not seeing how important it was for me to be there. And Damn myself for not following my own damn heart.


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