Thinking of sweet Muffy, Betsy and Scott

It’s been rough.  Today, all day, I did nothing.  I felt physically and mentally ill.

Muffy was put to sleep about a month ago in the ER.  She was dying of cancer of the liver; Betsy died Wednesday morning at home.  It all happened so fast.  She seemed okay.  Then she became ill and died.  Her ashes were delivered today.

And today is the anniversary of my son Scott’s  suicide.  I always dread August.  The day Scott killed himself, we were having a heat wave.  And now, again.

There’s always such guilt involved when a loved one, so close, dies.  What were the signs it was going to happen?  Why didn’t I see?  What could I have done to save my son?  My baby girls?  Was I inattentive, negligent in some way?  The questions haunt you, disturb/prevent sleep, tie your stomach in a knot so that you can’t eat.

Karen came with gifts, as usual.    She’s here visiting her mother; always comes by when she’s here.  Today she brought a cinnamon roll from the bakery on National and some lovely tomatoes,cucumbers and watermelon from a fruit stand.  I took a few bites of the cinnamon roll, had a tomato for supper.

My heart is breaking.  My mind isn’t really working.  I’ll tell the stories of Muffy, Betsy and Scott another time.  Just wanted to mention them on this day.

19 thoughts on “Thinking of sweet Muffy, Betsy and Scott

  1. Dear Sun Bird,

    I’ve thought of you and wondered how you are. Now, I know. I regret that I didn’t write you when I didn’t hear from you for so long.

    I am so so sorry to hear about Muffy, Betsy and Scott. This must be a terrifically difficult time for you. I am very glad that you have reached out here with letting us know what you are going through, the tremendous loss you are feeling. Nothing about this is easy. Nothing.

    When I lost my beloved cat back in February, I sat alone in the pain for days, all I could do. Then finally reached out a little with an announcement to a few of my online friends (perhaps like you are doing here). Their support, even with them only having a little information helped me.

    It took more days. I finally started gathering a few of his things. It turned into a tribute, a memorial to his honor and how much I loved him. It helped me a lot. But it was baby steps taken with feet that slid on the floor instead of walked. It was small bites of food until it was more again.

    The poem you wrote is beautiful. I felt every word of it. I knew you were experiencing a great deal of loss when I read it. I’d love to hear more about your beloved Muffy, Betsy and Scott when you are able to share, but only when and if you are able. And thank you so much for posting this and the poem you wrote.

    I’m thinking about you. Sending you waves of comfort and peace.


  2. I’m so sorry about your precious cat. Thank you for sharing your journey with me. It helps more than you an know. I’ll share mine when the hurt isn’t so raw.

  3. i can almost taste that ” cinnamon roll” – oh how i love the taste.

    sorry to hear of some of your news. i hope by the end of august your thoughts are flooded with happy memories and stories of Muffy, Betsy and Scott to share.

    deep thoughts and a warm prayer for you…

    David in Maine USA

  4. My heart is sending your heart a hug. I know you wrote this a couple weeks ago but of course the sadness doesn’t just up and disappear. Blessings to you. Please just keep breathing and believing that they are all with you. Big hugs dear friend. Joanna

  5. My heart goes out to you. I grieve with you – having lost our precious Boston Terrier, Angela, to cancer a year ago – – – and having the inexplicably painful experience of a niece committing suicide at age 19. I know about the questions and the tendency toward guilt. I pray that in time, you can set aside any thoughts of blame and just treasure the memories of happy times together. God Bless You!

  6. Thank you so much, Jan. I’m so sorry for your loss. It’s been three weeks since Betsy died and though the pain is still raw, I am about to open my arms to another sweet angel. I couldn’t bear the thoughts of another toy poodle so soon,so will welcome a mini. I lost my first ‘best friend’ forty years ago and she is still in my heart. They never leave us, do they?

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