Sweet Oliver

Four years ago today I woke up to my kitty Oliver enduring fatal  health issue that would eventually end his life. Thankfully he didn't suffer long. The vet said they couldn't help him. He had lost the use of his back legs and his lungs were quickly filling with fluid. I can't remember the name of the condition, but it's similar to a stroke, and even if it occurs in a hospital they can't do much for the beloved pet. It was such a sad day. I miss him.

He was a sweet guy; when he wanted to be. We had a love hate relationship. If I was paying attention to him he would hiss and attack me. But when I came home at night I could here him jump from the bed to the floor and hop down the steps to greet me at the back door jumping up and rubbing my leg and purring. He would be hissing and growling at me one minute and curling up and purring with me the next. I miss his quirkiness. 

My daughter brought him home one night and he was instantly at home. He always had this attitude that he allowed us to live in his house. He had that attitude the rest of his life. He was a loner, and when I brought home two other kittens, or when my daughter brought her kittens over he got a real attitude. But he loved my kitty Betty. She was the only cat that could get near him. I even caught him sleeping near her one afternoon. When he didn't come home from the vet she knew something happened. She didn't allow us to touch her pick her up for a week. He was her buddy. She was heart broken. 

I still remember going to pick him up from the vet office. How heavy my heart felt, and the love the staff extended in their condolences.  I could see the sadness in their eyes too. They cared for him for most of his life and they knew his temperament and how loving he was on the flip side of it. 

We miss you Ol!! Thank you for bringing us such love and devotion. RIP sweet man. 

Virginia

One year ago you left the earth. You were my best friend, my sister, and so much like a mother. I've never gotten over this heartache, and at times wonder if I ever will. The past few weeks I've been banging into you, as I often do, just more often lately. I wake in the middle of the night hearing you call my name. When full consciousness returns it is then I realize you are not here.  I remember the last time I saw you. You said "I love you" with more eloquence than usual. I think of that day endlessly. Thanksgiving, 2009 when we parted promising to talk soon. 

I walk in the woods in an attempt to heal. I hear your laugh. That non laugh, sweet exhalations I guess you'd call it.  That no longer are. I sit by the pond and feel you there. That comforting presence. 

I still don't believe you are gone from my life. Most of the time I feel in a fog, a dreamlike state, this surreal space. And think when I wake up you'll be there. I'll tell you "I had this crazy dream," and you'll laugh, and say "I'll always be here for you" and laugh..that sweet laugh I miss so dearly. 

I'll remember you

When the wind blows through the piney wood

It was you who understood

Though I'd never say

That I done it the way

That you'd have like me to

In the end

I'll remember you

Virginia Frances Riggins Spitler 

August 26, 1948 ~ December 19, 2009

Danny Dries August 28, 1941 ~ November 7, 2010

Danny was a very special friend I met through the web. Unfortunately, I never met him in person, but always felt I knew him through our postings and emails.  I heard he passed on yesterday and my heart sank, I cried. I knew he was fighting with health issues and always wondered if anything happened to him, would anyone contact me. I was so honored when his family did so. He was a very special friend to me. I will miss him dearly. I wrote this letter to him shortly after I heard he finished his earthly journey. 

Dear Danny,

I heard today that you passed away. When I read the words I cried. You'd think that was silly. I know. Probably ask me why? You lingered in and out of my mind this weekend. Was that you saying goodbye? 

We never met in person. Yet still, I felt I knew you all my life. I found you surfing the web awaiting my granddaughter's arrival. I read your blog and emailed you and found a sincere, loving friend. You asked me once how we knew each other, because it seemed we always did. You were surprised when I said no, just through the web. 

Time went by, wrapped up in life. I'd visit your blog to see how your life was. I'd email and you, and surprisingly you always remembered who I was.  We exchanged emails and shared our lives. You turned me into a mac user, and for that I am eternally grateful! You tried to be a curmudgeon, but I knew better. I shared my road trips with you, and you promised to join me sometime. I guess that is out of the question? But you were always with me and always will be. Friends would ask who you were, and I'd always say 'my dearest friend.' 

I loved your street scenes, I loved your full moons over the Brooklyn Bridge. I loved that your family was so important to you. I loved the pride you had in all of them. I loved your old photographs. I loved your spirit. 

Time passed on again.

I found you on Facebook and we reconnected. I tired of Facebook, as I often do. I still went to your blog to read and muse. I loved the music you posted. I loved your rambles and insight. Your political views, and your art.  What you were eating seemed so important. The photographs of your family. And your comments about American life. I was amused when you blogged about me disappearing. You made me laugh without even trying.

I ached when you were ill, and they couldn't find a answer for you. I felt the joy you felt when your daughters graduated from high school and were accepted into universities. And then became successful women, who you were so proud of. You wrote to me once: "I'm amazed at the unique talented children I've managed to produce from two failed marriages. " I always felt it was because you were such an amazing father and friend to them. 

You are an amazing friend, an amazing father, an amazing artist, blogger, human and curmudgeon. You are missed. I know you're in a better place, more than likely looking down shaking your head at all the insanity. It's lonely not having your physical being here, or just knowing it is here. But I know you're here in spirit. 

Rest now my friend and know how deeply you are loved and missed. 

Deb

Death, Grieving and Moving on

I had an interesting conversation with my neighbor this afternoon. She asked me if I ever had days where I really missed my sister. I said everyday. I told her it was one of the reasons for my journey this summer. The pain was so great I just couldn't take it. I told her about the days driving through the west I would pull over and just cry because I missed her so much, it hurt so much. I never felt I could tell anyone that before.


No one seems to understand the empty place in my life and heart I have since she left. She was my sister, but more than that she was more of a mother than my mother and she was a fantastic friend and so encouraging and loving. I think that is what I miss most is her unconditional love for me.


I got into an argument with my parents after her death. Actually it was more of them telling me everything that was wrong about me and they proceeded to tell me all the things Virginia had said about me. Yes, I know. That was her greatest characteristic she knew I wasn't complete, but she still loved me.