Grief is a funny thing

I really didn’t cry at all when Dad died last month. But I have been in tears off and on all day today thinking about the three Good Mews cats that were euthanized in the past two and a half weeks. As I read the tributes to Theo on Facebook today, and contributed my own comments, the tears just welled up and overflowed.

So of course the analytical side of me has to try to figure out why. It’s not like I had adopted Pops or Marley or Theo myself. They aren’t the only Good Mews cats I’ve known and loved to cross over the Rainbow Bridge — there’s Sargent, and Wonder, and Harry, and Samantha and Louise, and Gideon, and Relish…I could go on and on. I didn’t have the bond with them that I had with Iris, and that I have with Sarah and Mr. Boots and Donovan.

Maybe it’s that these three were special even among special cats. Maybe it’s that I shed my tears for Dad as I watched him battle his pulmonary fibrosis and heart problems for the past seven years.

Maybe it’s that I feel I CAN let myself grieve openly for these babies because, though I loved them, they didn’t mean nearly as much to me as Dad. It’s safe to shed tears for them.