Thanks to everyone for all the warm thoughts and condolences on Cooper’s passing. It’s been hard, and likely will for some time to come, but it definitely helps knowing there are people out there who support and understand the loss.
For now, I’m trying to establish new routines. Morning is a tough one. Before, I would get up, spend a few minutes cuddle time with Coop and then we’d go downstairs to let her out and of course follow that with the never-ending excitement over filling her dish. Once that was out of the way I’d traipse back upstairs and jump into the shower. By the time I got out, she’d be laying down in the bathroom doorway waiting for me. I have to keep reminding myself to get up and go straight into the shower now. No going downstairs. No filling the dish. No cuddles and laughter beforehand. Gotta tell you, I miss the cuddles and laughter. The new morning routine is pretty dull in comparison.
But after that, I do the usual. Fix my lunch, make coffee, get cereal. Then it’s downstairs to write. At this point, Coop usually went back to bed (getting up at 5:45 am to eat is acceptable, staying up when she could crawl back into bed? Not so much). Yesterday and today I managed to work out the plot issues I have been having with Act III thanks to some previous brainstorming with my CP. I put a picture of Coop on my desk and informed her she is now my new muse. I have a feeling she’ll be far more cooperative than the last one I had that was given the boot. It feels good to be able to write. I was worried with my concentration being shot to hell my writing would take a hit, but I seem to be managing it in baby steps.
Tonight will be the first night I eat supper at home since losing Coop. Not looking forward to that but I have to face it some time. I may forego the dining room table. I hate to eat alone and not having Coop’s chin resting on my leg while I eat might just sour my appetite completely, and it isn’t that great to begin with right now. I told Coop it is a true testament to how much I miss her if my appetite is affected. She isn’t the only one who danced excitedly at meal time.
But bit by bit I’m trying to make new routines. It will take a while before they feel normal, before it doesn’t kick me in the gut every time I go to do the things I used to. I’m not sure how long it will take for me to walk into my bedroom and not automatically look for her curled up on my bed, but I’m not sure I want to stop that one either, so maybe that’s okay.
I know eventually I’ll bring home a new bundle of fur, and while that new bundle will never be Coop, it will definitely benefit from all the wonderful things Coop taught me. I know she'll be there to help me raise the new addition in spirit.
7 comments:
Yeah, that morning routine thing is so tough. Even two years after losing George I can remember how awful it felt to walk down the stairs after our morning cuddle without the bundle of brown fur scampering ahead of me and waiting by his bowl.
I'm glad you're writing, though. Great you have something to concentrate on.
Love today's pic of Coop.
More hugs.
Sheesh - you'd think I could write properly "walk down stairs, without our morning cuddle and without the bundle..."
It's amazing how huge the space is that a loved one occupies, not only in our hearts but in our physical world. I know you can feel Coop everywhere. I hope you keep sharing pics of her - I love them all!
More love to you.
Take one day at a time, Kelly. :-) Lots of hugs...
Oh, Kelly, I'm sorry for your loss. Take it one day at a time. It'll get easier. I promise.
I know how hard it's been for you Kelly. I hope things get better for you soon.
Sounds like you're on the right track. Good luck with the new routine!
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