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  • The point is that he got born and got to live with you for many years.

    Don't focus on the end, focus on all the great moments you had together.

  • Yes. Life is a blip of mostly suffering and pain. But, within that whirlwind of time, there are incredibly warming and thought-provoking moments. For your cat, it was probably laying on your lap. Cozying up somewhere warm. Getting pet, and chasing something far too nimble to catch.

    Life has genuine joy in it that makes the hard times worth it. It's through the hard times that we can find the most sympathetic and connecting moments.

    I'm sorry for your loss, I'm sure your cat loved their time here, with you.

  • You gave your cat years of love, how can all that be meaningless? It will be a sad day when my 19yr old buddy passes but I'm grateful for his love everyday and happy I can love him back. Death is inevitable but life is what you make of it.

  • I am so, so sorry for your loss. I understand how you feel, and I'm sorry that I have no words that can help. Nothing can replace them.

    We do a little ritual for ours on the Day of the Dead; I don't know if it helps. I guess it makes me feel a little better the rest of the year, setting time aside to remember the good times.

    I'm sorry.

  • Well if this isn't the most beautiful thread I have seen on Lemmy.. thank you everyone. I'm not crying!

  • I lost my dog on Wednesday.

    I’m in the mud too feeling the same things. Yesterday morning I was ready to never get out of bed, to just dehydrate and die. I didn’t move until my whole body was numb. It felt like the universe had given me my reward in her spread out over 10 years, but kept tally of all my sins and unleashed my punishment all at once directly on my soul. It was ash in my mouth and salt in my eyes, unbearable and searing pain. Until my partner came over to check on me because I was non-responsive by phone. They bodily got me up, they made me drink water and eat, they got me out of bed and into the shower. Through all my sobbing and wailing and despair they held me and told me it’s ok, that they loved me. They loved me on purpose and took care of me when I couldn’t do that for myself.

    And that’s it. That’s the purpose. The point. Love. Grief is always hovering there right next to love we experience, but would you trade a single moment with your cat to avoid this grief and pain? I certainly wouldn’t. I’ll take this a hundred times over for the love I experienced for and from Mercy. It’s why we do this to ourselves when we bring a pet into our lives knowing every minute of the journey that it will end too soon. Because they fill a hole in our hearts and make our lives brighter. Even though right now it feels like there is no light in the world, you need to realize that it only feels dark in comparison to how much light they brought. It’s like being in a bright room and suddenly the lights are cut and you’re blind. I promise, our eyes will adjust, we’ll see again, we’ll breath again, and eventually, all we’ll remember is the love and warmth.

    All we have to do is survive this, right now. Let it wash over you, honor them with your grief and pain, but don’t let it control you because that’s not what they’d want. Your cat would want you to continue to find the light, to find joy, and to find love. And you have to stick around for that, and you have to do it for them. You’ll do it because you loved and were loved and will love again.

    The point is love.

  • We live for no other reason than that we can. Against all odds, in a universe that wasn't trying to make us alive, we became more than the sum of our elements that compose us: to be the thinking and thriving things that we are - for as long as we are. Life itself is an act of defiance against the universe, but ultimately playing by it's rules with the understanding that we can only do so for a finite amount of time.

    Your cat too was one of those defiant and emergent souls that used the universe as it's playground full of strangers, bullies, and friends alike. Never forget that which it did not know: that its time was short but miraculous in the grand scheme of a universe borne of chaos but twinkling with unexpected life.

  • the entire existence of all living things is the struggle. some thrive, some don't.

    but we do it all for the good days. if it was all good days, we wouldn't appreciate them like we do. the darkness gives meaning to the light, and the bad days give meaning to the good ones.

    i'm sorry about your cat. it can be rough to lose a loved one. but that doesn't mean there won't be more good days.

  • I’m sorry for your loss. Thank you for giving your cat a good life, and I hope they gave you memories to cherish too.

  • This life is what we can make of it, with a harsh overtone of constant surprises - some wonderful, many terrible.

    It's that dichotomy between the darkness we grow calloused to, and the lights we find along the way that bring hope and meaning into our world.

    It's hard to face the end - either through our own eyes, or the eyes of those we love... But I think every darkness can be the setting for something else to come.

    I've lost enough loved ones to know they're sometimes the only lights I can see in the darker times. None of this helps explain the terrible nature of death, but I think it helps sometimes to know they aren't truly gone to us.

    When they leave this world, I think they can actually end up being more powerful because our minds reach out more than ever to connect with their memory. In this way, we are never truly alone, and we always have a light to carry.

    As for the immediate grief, I always turn to one of my favorite quotes on the subject:

    Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self. Therefore, trust the physician and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility.

    Khalil Gibran

  • I hate platitudes, but I did hear the saying something like grief is love with nowhere to go. The amount of suffering you feel is proportional to the amount of love you gave your cat, so it sounds like your cat was exceptionally lucky overall.

    We lost our cat a few years ago. She was quirky and weird and sick her entire short life. She had lymphoma - the vet never even tested for it because she was too young. The day we were supposed to bring her home from an overnight stay was the day we had to put her down, and it scarred us deeply. My work sent me home, I was so useless. I cried for hours when I realised our other cat had stopped eating from half of the bowl they shared.

    It sucks. It always sucks. It feels like it will never get better, and it won't, but it'll get dimmer. You'll be able to remember the good stuff more often without the final moments crashing in. It just takes time.

    For now if you have to wallow in despair, do it. You lost a loved one. It's your right. Remember though, you're going through all this because your pet didn't have to. You held up your end of the deal, and your pet got a great life because you took the pain of loss away from them.

  • "Just"? No. At least, but we can also do more. Keep going. Choose your own point. Good luck.

  • On the large scale of thing, we're only able to witness time through a small window we call our existence, entirely locked from interacting with what happens before or after. It's a bit sad to know that we won't ever be able to witness some historical events, but that's just how life is.

    There's no universal reason in living, it's just a wild ride that we witness and try to make sense of. Consider this: your cat's existence, however long or short, contained mostly your presence and affection, and while he's now gone, remember that you gave him the best life you could, filled with you in it. From your point of view, it's a small time window, but for him it was an entire life.

    My condolences, and hope you can find some solace by reminiscing the time spent together with him.

  • Yes, you are correct on broad terms. Life has no objective meaning. It has a lot of subjective meaning, though.

    You loved your cat and your cat loved you. You wouldn’t be upset about this if those two things weren’t true. Does that matter in the grand scheme of things? No, but it matters to you and it mattered to your cat.

    I understand where you’re coming from. I have lived in despair after friends, family, and pets have “moved on”. It never gets easier, and I am tearing up thinking about the many moments like this that I have experienced, and the many more that I will experience.

    It’s probably very hard to hear right now, but you should soldier through this. You don’t have to, but there are a lot of relationships that you will experience that you don’t even know about yet. There are people and pets that you haven’t met yet or that haven’t even been born yet who you will have an impact on, and who will have an impact on you.

    And though this kind of loss is not something that a human can ever really leave behind, one day you will understand it, and you’ll leave a comment like this one. And you’ll know that every relationship we have is valuable (in one way or another) and worth sticking around to experience.

    Life is meaningless, but only on a grand scale. The pain you’re feeling now only tells you that life is worth experiencing, even if it doesn’t really mean anything in the end.

    RIP to your cat. You probably won’t ever really, “get over” the loss, but this relationship has helped you understand how to love.

  • I think we don't really appreciate time until we know it ends. Unfortunately, we outlive some animals, but we get to enjoy time with them and doing everything possible to make their life better.

    I lost my dog last year, it was rough. My family wasn't there, I had to go by myself and the vet couldn't do more to save her, but I was there, she wasn't alone, she never was. I always watched her, played with her, even danced with her because she was very tall. I remember the first time I saw that she couldn't peek at the window anymore, she was getting old and fragile and she couldn't get up, I realized that I could only give her all the love I could, but I distanced myself some days from her because I didn't wanna suffer her loss, I was afraid of what was going to come in the next months.

    After some time, I realized I was being very selfish because I would remember all the love I had for her, but she would remember how in her last months I abandoned her, and I couldn't let that happen. My love for her, my time with her; our time together was what make some parts of my life great! She made me feel better a lot of times and I always reciprocated.

    I think one of the points of life, at least mine, is to make other lives better, that includes to help all the animals I can, even if I'll have to suffer when they're gone, because they will be happy all the time they lived.

  • Life is change. It's literally the only thing you can 100% depend on. Once you accept that, not fear it, just accept it, you can move on to the great things that are here and now in the present.

  • Life sucks, no doubt, but you're here and you have to get used to it. The best advice I can provide is slurp up all the good moments you can and savor the taste, so their memories will get you through the hard spots. Repeat until dead.

  • I'm sorry that I dumped my grief upon you people but I'm also glad that I did. You are so kind and amazing for sharing your thoughts which makes this thread a beautify place. Reading the comments does help and I think it turns out to be something helpful to others too.

    The grief haven't get better but I'm starting to get a grasp on it. I'm scared for being so alone the first time in many years. I tried to distract myself by watching shows and playing games. After a while I'd go check my cat to see if he's ok, before remembering that I won't find him anywhere. I'm, however, grateful for those sad thoughts and stupid habits as it assures me that my cat will always be with me. And that's way better than forgetting.

    I'm sure my cat had at least some good time through out the 19 years (like the time we sleep together in the sunshine). It's sad to think that I can't give him more good things but it's comforting to think that he won't feel pain anymore. I think he doesn't care too much being the little asshole he always was. Fricking cats...

    Maybe there doesn't have to be a point. Or maybe the point is to love and to help. I still don't have an answer but I'm glad that I asked. And I'm grateful that many of you who have it figured out cared enough to share your answers. Thank you, kind internet strangers.

  • Life is. Some is suffering, some is great. Altogether it is temporary. Some have argued that the great would be bland without the temporary or the suffering. The resolution to that argument will be clear at the end, or it won't, and maybe nothing will. So it goes.

    By my estimation, in any case the best course of action is to enjoy the great. Perhaps it's also best to appreciate the great in context of the temporary, and the suffering. It's macabre, but it's either poetic, or it's making the best of a fundamentally macabre situation. So it goes.

101 comments