Ravaging grief

Today grief feels like a wildfire, spreading, and ravaging over everything in sight. I went to the SPCA to volunteer again, and today was overwhelming. There are dozens and dozens of cats and kittens there. They are a no-kill facility, which is great, and that means there are lots of cats. It's kitten season so there are bundles and bundles of the little ones. They are fiesty too.

What was hard is that all the kittens were new to me. Unlike my Sassy and my Grayson, it was like interacting with strangers. Cute strangers but strangers all the same. Socializing them is important so they are on the right path to good kittydom and also b/c all the time spent in cages can be a bit depressing to them. They need stimulation and love.

So cage by cage I went meeting each of them. It just felt overwhelming.

Couple this with the fact that Sassy's ashes were ready today. I picked them up at the front desk on my way out (the SPCA here does cremations). It was just heartbreaking to say, "I'd like to pick up my cat's ashes" and to give her name, probably for the last time to a vet-like person. They brought out a two-handled paper tote bag (the kind you get after shopping at Starbucks, Ann Taylor, or the Gap) with her name on it. Inside was a tin with her ashes.

I got to the car in tears and my stomach hurt violently. Grief just took over completely. The one mildly or remotely humorous moment happened when I went to the grocery store to buy some fruits and vegetables to perk me up, and I took the bag "with Sassy" into the store with me. What was I going to do? Leave her in the car, lest the car be stolen (probably a 1 in 10 million chance I'm sure). I'm dedicated to the end. It's just so wrong that my baby girl is in a tin box.

I'm trying to channel my grief through positive methods of mourning. I'm trying to shine the love she gave me out into the world. Today I feel like giving up on everything though. I just feel like a fire has burned me ragged.