Sep 13, 2015


I'm trying to understand myself and my grief. It's been about a month and a half since Hyperion died, and somehow I don't get over it. Through the years, I've had many cats and many of them have died, of course. While Hyperion lived, I thought sometimes about what would be my reaction  the day he died. I thought that maybe I'd be sad but I would quickly look for a new cat. It had been so with Ramses, our Siamese cat. However, ever since Hyperion got sick, the idea of him dying on me was simply unacceptable for me. Now, after he has been gone, I find myself missing him everyday.

My memories of Hyperion extend to all of my senses, but curiously, they are mainly concentrated in my sense of smell and my touch. I remember his smell vividly, often to the point where I can suddenly smell him, and fell at the same time the soft fur of his head pressed to my upper lip. I remember his fur against my nose, the touch of his head against my hand, how it fet when I scratched him, or his weight as he leaned agaings my hand or sat on my lap. The heat of him, the vibrations of his purring, his big paws in my hand or pressing against me.

I still sad as I remember that he's no longer with us, that I can't go home and wait to see him, pick him up and caress him. Yes, no cat has ever been so long with us as Hippie, so is it that why I don't get over his death so easy? I got over breaking up with my ex so much faster and so much painlessly, and yet here's a cat - ok, a great, awesome cat - and I don't seem to be able to move on, see my life without him.

Grief can be so weird.

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