The Morning After

I’m up. I tried to make it a normal morning. I went to the dry cleaner to pick up stuff. I went to the post office. I went to Starbucks. I got gas for my case. All of that was no problem.

I had to drive by the vet’s office. It’s on the way to/from most of my errands. That caused a little pang. But what was really and unexpectedly hard, was going to the grocery store. The pet food aisle caused a reaction. Crying in a supermarket while shopping is embarrassing especially when you run into a neighbour. It wasn’t too noticeable, though. Just runny eyes and sniffles. I told him it was “allergies” and I forgot to take my medicine. He was like “yeah, I know what it’s like” so that went away quickly.

Last night, I tool all of Scooter’s stuff and carefully moved it into the garage. Except the medicine which is still in the fridge. All the mats, beds, bowls, treats, rugs, toys, houses, stairs, food, games, art. Everything. I am keeping one set of bizzy-balls — her favourite toy. I picked the most chewed-up nasty ones to keep. I really do hope some of you reading this will consider finding a home for some of this stuff — I’ve got tons of food (wet and dry) plus all the items listed above. The medicines and vitamin supplements are very expensive and throwing them away would be a sin.

Grief makes you do weird things. Last night, I suddenly decided that I needed to remodel my house. In the living room, I moved the Vasse tower over by the curio case, moved the fake plant to where the Vasse tower was. I took the metal bird and put it in the guest bathroom where the litter box was and put a new rug in place of the kitty shaped rug in there. I took the terra-cotta coloured box from my office and put it in my bedroom in the corner where one of the cat houses was.

The big thing is, I moved my bed. That huge platform bed that required three people to bring up and install. I moved it all by myself about 1 foot to the left. I’m not sure how I did it, but I did. I just decided it need to be moved. And I did. I didn’t even hurt myself, though I don’t know how I managed to avoid it. It’s a few hundred pounds.

Most of the changes won’t be noticeable to anyone except the kitchen. Without all of the Scooter stuff it looks much emptier. I walk in and am sad. Every time. It doesn’t look the same.

I think I’m going to try and meet my hockey friends for dinner tonight and go to the game. I’m not sure if I’ll make it, but I might try. If I stay home, I know it’ll be hard.

I want to thank a few people who’ve been especially helpful. Karen who called several times to check up on me — she tried to help me, feed me, etc but I so didn’t want it. But I appreciate her efforts. Also to Beep who tried repeatedly (and unsuccesfully) to distract me from my thoughts. Special thanks to Bart and Tim who really GET it — I can tell from their heartfelt emails. I want to thank the online community many of whom have written and/or posted their support in various places. I’m not sure what to make of my friends who didn’t say anything: there were quite a few of those, and I figured they’d at least say “I’m sorry” or something.

Erin’s invited me over today, so I might go lay on her couch and watch football with her. I’ll see if it can keep me distracted. (She’s laid up with a bad ankle so we can be miserable together, just for different reasons.)

In other news, and this goes back a month, but I’m just now revealing it because I’ve been too bothered by other things to mention this, me and Austri are over. That’s not bad news. Sad yes, but bad no. It was a long time coming and I’m the one who ended it. There’s no reason to get into the why’s and wherefore’s or whose fault it was. So if I don’t talk about her much anymore, you’ll know why. And no, I don’t want to talk about it. I’m okay with it.

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