My 19-year-old cat Hermione died last night. Unlike when my other cats have passed, it was not a peaceful process.
In fact, it was so similar to how J died with the gasping for breath and the inability to get comfortable that I am quite traumatized. I haven’t even had a chance to deal with watching J die yet. The only thing that was different was that Hermione’s death was much quicker than J’s—too quick for me to even get her to a vet.
Scooty was pacing around the cage Hermione had gone into and was pawing at her in a way that looked like he was trying to comfort her.
And after Dylan confirmed that Hermione had died, the strangest thing happened: Roshi stood outside the cage, standing up very straight like he was at military attention, and just looked forward very intently. He stood like that for about 5 full minutes. It looked very, very much like he was paying his respects.
Chloe and Dyl made arrangements with Amy to deal with her cremation but I don’t want Amy to feel like she has to take over for J. I should be strong enough for this and I deeply regret that I’m just not right now.
But other than that, it was also a difficult day. I called J’s priest to finalize the arrangements for his memorial service next month. He chose the Bible readings and the songs in advance.
Then his priest asked if we wanted to read any of the four Bible passages, which I had never considered before, but I said we would. So far, tentatively, we have me, Amy, Kris, and my mom (though Amy said she was a “probably” but she needed time to think about it, and Kris asked if she could think and pray about it for a while and I said of course.)
Kris said she thought it might be too emotional for her, which I completely understand.
I took a very brief opportunity to tell her that I’m sure she knew about the ongoing stuff on my Facebook page between us and her mom and I told her that I very intentionally left her out of it but I knew what difficult feelings this was probably bringing up for her and that I had so much compassion for her.
She acknowledged that it has been very difficult for her (the rest of our brief discussion I’ll leave out) and I told her that I would pray for her peace and comfort.
I honestly can’t imagine how much guilt she is probably feeling right now. She has also tried to maintain a relationship with her mother but I don’t know to what extent she had blocked out the details of how much J was abused (or the fact that J often got beaten for things that she did) or how much violence she had witnessed from her grandfather towards her mother.
J got a lot more of the direct violence directed at him. Kris witnessed a lot more violence. Both are damaging and take their toll on your psyche.
I just feel so bad about all of this. Dylan asked me tonight if there was any other way we could have handled this less publicly and I honestly don’t think there was. We couldn’t send a message to Sue privately; she would likely just say a bunch of nasty, hateful stuff to us. Same with sending her a letter or calling her. Nothing would have been resolved and she wouldn’t have been held accountable.
I owed it to J’s memory to confront his mom about his abuse in a way she couldn’t deny. Both Amy and Dylan co-signed that yes, they heard about it directly from J himself (and Amy even pointed out that she had heard much more explicit stories about the abuse than what I wrote.)
Sue tried to deny that Denny had ever abused him and we had proof that we were willing to share in a public platform. She was trying to drag my name through the mud and viciously attack me but plain and simple, we had proof.
This needed to be done. She said we would never get a dime of her and Denny’s money, which really shows that she never cared about us all along. But I don’t believe for a second that she would have given me anything anyway, even if I had kept quiet about the abuse he suffered (and he suffered SO MUCH.)
But none of this is to say that any of this has been easy on me. I’m back to losing weight and being unable to eat again. I wish I could have kept my mouth shut but the result of that would have been letting them get away with it, which I just couldn’t do.
On another note, my friend Sarah brought me some groceries from Trader Joe’s today. She has a lot of psychic friends and she told me that one of them had a message for me from J. She didn’t know anything about his cause of death or really anything about him.
She said that he’s spending time with our other child, which was super eerie to me. I had a miscarriage between my pregnancies with Amy and Chloe and I always assumed that was just Chloe waiting around to be born so her birthday wouldn’t be in the same week as Amy’s and Dylan’s.
The one thing I thought was super spooky was that Sarah also picked up a dozen yellow roses for me, and when I asked about them, she just shrugged and said they were a spur-of-the-moment decision.
But she also said that her whole shopping trip was J trying to get in touch with me, which he’s supposedly been trying to do for quite some time. The presence of the flowers definitely seemed like they would be a message from J.
I told Dyl about it and of course he was very cynical, just as J once would have been. But I don’t know.
I let myself take a nap tonight (which I rarely do anymore) to see if J would come to me in my dream. I did have a dream ABOUT him but it didn’t seem like it was a communication. Instead, he was telling me in the dream that he never liked the underwear I got him. And honestly that kinda hurt because I always tried SO hard to get him just what he liked, simply because his mom didn’t. If that’s a message he’s trying to get through to me, it only makes me hurt more over things I can’t change anymore.
She also told me that he wants me to get up and start living. And that I have to be ready for the baby who’s coming in the future (!!!) I can only see that as a grandchild from Dyl and Sav and she’s on birth control and they want to adopt. But I guess time will tell.
I just wish there had been ANY other way to expose the truth about how J grew up. It has left me feeling very vulnerable and raw and like I paid a big price for being a truth-teller.