Thursday, February 9, 2017

Letting go

Today we unexpectedly put our dear, sweet, and loving cat, Max, to sleep. Max was an unusual cat-a hairless bundle of love and kindness. He loved basking in the sun and purred at the slightest touch. Letting go of a pet is always difficult. Naturally I've struggled with grief and heartache today. But after much soul searching I think I'm beginning to better understand the deep depth of this pain. We brought Max home in 2008 after a devastating loss of a baby. He helped heal the hole in our hearts. My son, Caleb, was only six-years old at that time. During that time, he was a happy, outgoing, and much loved child.  It would be the last year before I began to unravel his safety and security. It would be exactly one year before I would fall into the chaos and madness of full blown alcoholism. It would be was the last year we'd be an intact family-the last year my son would live with the father figure he'd grown up with. I can't go back and change the past but I also can't pretend I don't carry the guilt of the damage that ultimately took place. Looking back Max was a symbol of stability. It was a time when I saw my son at his happiest-when his world was still full of safety and security. This is not to suggest that my son was without love or safety when I spiraled into the depths of hell.  Rather, he was surrounded by those who loved him greatly. But for me it was the last time I would have that solid innocent bond with my child. A child who was so trusting and believed in a world of goodness. I can (and do) make a living amends to him each and every day. But let's be clear-I can never get those years back. I can never go back in time and share in his world during those years. I am grieving for Max but I am also grieving for the years in which I was absent. The years in which my son grew from a small boy into a young man. My soul weeps when I look at photos of him when he was younger-such obvious happiness and joy. I missed out on that. I will get through it-I do get through it but for today I will cry for past hurts and missed opportunities.