The last two weeks have filled me with some of the most unimaginable grief, and having Don’s burial postponed until today did nothing to help me prepare. Every day, I get ready for work and completely lose it, and then I have to give myself the “Pull it together, Erin!” speech. Our house feels so empty and every moment I’m alone in there, my mind just reels and it’s like I’m suspended in this suffocating, quicksanded Hell, getting bitch-slapped in the face by bittersweet memories; plus I’ve been listening to a lot of Morcheeba lately, because that is apparently what I liked in 2002. Like swishing hot tea over a tooth ache, only in my heart. But it’s OK. I know that one day I will be able to look at pictures of Don and smile, just like I can now do with my Pappap, without becoming racked with misery.
I asked Henry to write some words in Don’s memory, because I’m not ready to close the door on my own. Still hurts too much.
I always love when Erin makes write a few words or answer a few questions about something we did or she made me do. Words just do not flow from my head like they do from hers. It takes planning and a lot of extra thought to get this little tribute in to motion, for Erin I would do almost anything though and if writing is what she wants then writing she shall have. When I first came along Don was already part of the family, but even though I was the stranger and not the biggest cat person at all, He was one of the first to warm up to me as he did everyone that entered his house, except for his nemesis ( as pictured in some rare pictures of both of them together) Chooch. He was always the first to come out and sit with you once Chooch went to sleep, he would sit next to as long as you didn’t try and hold him. Don has me made me some what of a cat person as long as they turn out like him. He will be missed!