If I hadn't figured out YEARS ago that I was a scattered mind individual and created systems to keep it together, gracious me, I would be a disaster. I found myself in a meeting today, semi-panicked, because I couldn't use my phone to take notes of things that were coming to mind, so I had to flip over a sheet of paper I was using and just write down a couple of key words to keep it together. If I can't 'document' it somehow, it'll be gone.
And my organization system might not make sense to everyone, but it works. For example, I have a silver turtle candle holder on the 1st shelf of my bookcase. Under that turtle goes receipts and documents I need to file. No real rhyme or reason as to how that became 'my place' but that's how it works while I'm in this apartment. I have a similar system with my keys- all 3 sets (car, apartment, work). If I stick with the system, I can usually avoid misplacing or losing things... key word = usually.
But sometimes you can't control what you lose. And this is something that's been at the forefront of my mind lately. Things I've lost that I can't control.
If you know me, you know that I am an animal freak (in a good way). If there's anything that can bring me to tears fastest, it is admittedly something related to animals. I cried when picking up Maggy from being spayed. I cried when I said goodbye to my 2 yellow labs and cat when I left for college. I cry when I leave the shelter I occasionally volunteer at or see an animal in need somewhere. If I see a dog or cat on the side of the road alive, I have to try to save it. If there's a turtle crossing the road, I stop and help it out of traffic's harm. I can't help it. It's hard-wired in me.
And so when I think about losing something, the first thing that comes to mind are fur babies I've had in my life. As I was driving to the mall yesterday, I passed the Emergency Vet where I had to have my littlest and most recent fur baby put to sleep. My little Beany baby. I rescued her from an abandoned gas station, where at least 15 feral cats were living. She was the only one I could get. She was teeny tiny and a whopping 2 pounds. She lived in the bathroom at my parents house (it was Thanksgiving when I found her) until I got her to a doctor to have her health checked. She loved to pad and snuggle and had so much to tell me after I'd been away from her. I noticed one day that Bean was acting different (I'd had her about 2-3 weeks at this point): her little body was really warm, she just wanted to sleep in my lap and then threw up. Long story short- my wee one had the Parvo version from cat and no matter the treatment, nothing would save her. I cried endless amounts. I held her as they gave her the shot and I'll never forget the last couple of minutes holding my baby. Tears falling on her sweet little head as we had our last moments together. This little fur baby needed me and I felt like I had failed her.
As an animal lover, I have experienced a lot of loss. Toby, Meghann, Norman, Woody, Gizmo and Bean are the big ones. There's been bunnies, turtles, fish, etc in there. And (knock on wood) I have only lost 1 person that I had a strong connection to- my mom's dad, my Grandpa. (My dad's dad is also passed, but I was so young I don't have a lot of memories of him)
I don't like loss. I can't imagine many people who do (at least the kind I've spent time writing about here today). Obviously if you are into Special K, you probably are digging their new marketing of 'what will you gain when you lose?'
But here's the big Q... what does it really mean to lose something?
Is that a feeling that can ever be articulated? Does the pain ever really leave? That sense of longing wane?
I might be just me, but I don't think it ever will.
Bean- my sweet little girl. I love you. Rest in Peace always. I will never lose your memory.
And my organization system might not make sense to everyone, but it works. For example, I have a silver turtle candle holder on the 1st shelf of my bookcase. Under that turtle goes receipts and documents I need to file. No real rhyme or reason as to how that became 'my place' but that's how it works while I'm in this apartment. I have a similar system with my keys- all 3 sets (car, apartment, work). If I stick with the system, I can usually avoid misplacing or losing things... key word = usually.
But sometimes you can't control what you lose. And this is something that's been at the forefront of my mind lately. Things I've lost that I can't control.
If you know me, you know that I am an animal freak (in a good way). If there's anything that can bring me to tears fastest, it is admittedly something related to animals. I cried when picking up Maggy from being spayed. I cried when I said goodbye to my 2 yellow labs and cat when I left for college. I cry when I leave the shelter I occasionally volunteer at or see an animal in need somewhere. If I see a dog or cat on the side of the road alive, I have to try to save it. If there's a turtle crossing the road, I stop and help it out of traffic's harm. I can't help it. It's hard-wired in me.
And so when I think about losing something, the first thing that comes to mind are fur babies I've had in my life. As I was driving to the mall yesterday, I passed the Emergency Vet where I had to have my littlest and most recent fur baby put to sleep. My little Beany baby. I rescued her from an abandoned gas station, where at least 15 feral cats were living. She was the only one I could get. She was teeny tiny and a whopping 2 pounds. She lived in the bathroom at my parents house (it was Thanksgiving when I found her) until I got her to a doctor to have her health checked. She loved to pad and snuggle and had so much to tell me after I'd been away from her. I noticed one day that Bean was acting different (I'd had her about 2-3 weeks at this point): her little body was really warm, she just wanted to sleep in my lap and then threw up. Long story short- my wee one had the Parvo version from cat and no matter the treatment, nothing would save her. I cried endless amounts. I held her as they gave her the shot and I'll never forget the last couple of minutes holding my baby. Tears falling on her sweet little head as we had our last moments together. This little fur baby needed me and I felt like I had failed her.
As an animal lover, I have experienced a lot of loss. Toby, Meghann, Norman, Woody, Gizmo and Bean are the big ones. There's been bunnies, turtles, fish, etc in there. And (knock on wood) I have only lost 1 person that I had a strong connection to- my mom's dad, my Grandpa. (My dad's dad is also passed, but I was so young I don't have a lot of memories of him)
I don't like loss. I can't imagine many people who do (at least the kind I've spent time writing about here today). Obviously if you are into Special K, you probably are digging their new marketing of 'what will you gain when you lose?'
But here's the big Q... what does it really mean to lose something?
Is that a feeling that can ever be articulated? Does the pain ever really leave? That sense of longing wane?
I might be just me, but I don't think it ever will.
Bean- my sweet little girl. I love you. Rest in Peace always. I will never lose your memory.
Bean, November 2- December 2, 2012
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