My 16-year old rescued Russian Blue, Rhiannon, crossed over the Rainbow Bridge this morning at 6 AM while sleeping in my arms. She took a deep breath, opened her eyes and looked at me, and then closed them again as she crossed over. She never really recovered from losing her “rescue-littermate”, Sara-Michael, about a year ago.
Oh no. Another loss.
Now I’m sitting here crying for all y’all.
I’m petting our black cat, Darth-Ann, who never really recovered from when her son, Mel, died in 2022. They were fixated on each other. She’s still a great loving kitty, but her personality changed when she couldn’t find him any more.
They slept together on the recliner at night. She still sleeps there, and leaves his side clear — probably in case he returns.
They were feral when we took them in, along with two of her other babies.
May God comfort you, as only His perfect peace can do. May He fill the emptiness you may now, or will be feeling. His promises are true and faithful. May your mourning be covered with a garment of praise for the years of friendship He provided through faithful companionship.
If I were beside you, I’d give you a warm and honest hug. And when that hug made you want pull away in pain as tears rolled down your face, I’d hold on and let you cry it out in that hug for as long as necessary.
Why?
Because I wish someone would also do this for me this morning. The tears don’t seem to stop. I’ve become an empty shell of what I was.
May God’s Spirit comfort you
((HUG))