Here's something ridiculous to make up for the somber tone of this post. I don't know if the spacing will format once I hit publish, but I probably won't feel like changing it, so apologies in advance.
My cat, Inky, died about two weeks ago and my MiL (Babydaddy's mother, not Mr GV's) died early this morning. My cat was her cat until about five years ago. My heart is fucking broken.
Inky was a wonderful little weirdo. She didn't like tuna or any other fish and the only people food she would eat was cheese. She was a tortoiseshell and was very talky. She was a cat with whom you could have lengthy conversations. She was very rarely a lap cat, but seemed happy to sit next to or very near you. She gave 0 fucks about the rats (kiddo's pets) and seemed to go to lengths to ignore them. Inky gonna do what she wants. We bonded more than I expected to and I miss her so much.
She had basically been wasting away for weeks (we had her at the vet weekly for B12 shots, but she kept losing weight). We see the local community vet, and they don't have access to super-expensive equipment, so we don't know exactly what did it. Maybe at 14 her warranty was up. She took a turn for the worst that Thursday night and after a rough day she died that Friday. I miss her so damn much.
My MiL was the first mothery person to treat me like an adult. I met her in 1996 when Babydaddy and I got together (I was 20, he was 25) and I was immediately treated like part of the family. Babydaddy and his mom were very close after going through a lot together. She was warm and cheerful, even when things were shit, which they frequently were. She had a really hard life, very poor most of the time, but somehow managed to do what needed to be done with the most positive attitude she could muster. She was very free about how much she loved her family and would have loved showering her granddaughters with gifts if she had been able to do so.
Her health was terrible. She was undiagnosed diabetic for years and by the time she was diagnosed she already showed signs of kidney damage. She continued to gain weight throughout her life and was obese by the time I met her and really struggling to lose any weight. She eventually developed a significant spinal stenosis (narrowing of the spine that squeezes the nerves) and chronic pain became a daily part of her life. She bore that, too. She developed heart problems and her kidneys continued to rebel. She became so medically fragile that she wasn't expected to survive emergency surgery related to her heart issues a couple months ago. She had a 30% chance of surviving, but she was a really tough lady and she wasn't done. She rallied and made it after about a week in the hospital. She was back in a few days ago, this time because of her kidneys. Yesterday Babydaddy (a stoic dude) was there when the doctor served up the news that she had a few days to two weeks to live. They moved her for 24-hr hospice with the plan to get her home for hospice there in a few days.
I think she chose to go. She didn't feel a ton of control over her circumstances during her earlier years and I think she was a very sneaky lady who left us before anyone could see her at her most fragile. She was a fighter, but I think she was exhausted and decided she was done. The world is a little darker for her loss and my heart has another hole in it that will never be filled. I don't believe in an afterlife, but I do think she was relieved to finally go and went quickly without pain.
Take care of yourselves, people. Go to the doctor when you have the opportunity. Exercise. Sleep. Eat properly. Drink water. Breathe. We only get one spin on this blue marble.