Hey Internet, it’s been a week since we lost Binx, and I just wanted to drop a line real quick. Over the past month, whenever someone asks me how I am doing I have the same answer – “I’m hanging in there.” It’s the easiest thing I’ve found to tell people, and it feels true. I am hanging in there – I’m clinging for dear life onto hope. The hope that things will improve, the hope that things just can’t get worse, and most importantly (but admittedly to hardest to live out at the moment) the hope I have in Jesus.
The last week was hard. Moving is already hard enough, but the added grief of loosing my babycat made it worse. I’ve been trying to keep my mind on the move, but every so often I relive those awful last moments with Binx and hanging in there becomes harder.
I know the timing was lucky – I didn’t have to sleep in that room again. I was able to leave the setting of those awful memories. But they are still in my head. For the first day of two I just kept telling people the same thing “It was so awful. It was just so awful.” But I can never make anyone truly understand, because no one was there to witness it. And as much as I long for someone to understand how terrible it was, how much it shook me to the core, I wouldn’t want anybody to see him like that. I want him to be remembered as he was, not the way he died.
Being in the new place has helped – having a project to work on, not always looking for Binx to come and greet me as I walk in, because he was never at the new place. It’s still hard, it can still be lonely, but I’m learning to cope, and I know that when I’m ready I will bring home two new babies to love.
Until then I will be here, mastering the art of hanging in there.
Have you ever had to master the art of hanging in there, Internet?