On the first of April, I lost my cat Klaus.
As odd as it may be, I'm still having a tough time accepting this. He wasn't old, he wasn't sick...he died from some freak accident of eating a sharp enough object to pierce some vital organ. He woke us up early, crying and spitting up blood, and on the way to the emergency vet, he died.
My former Japanese teacher had some of the most touching words for me, and I'd like to share them.
"He is in your mind now. So, please show your smile to him not your tears. I believe he likes your smile, too."
When speaking about losing a friend, a co-worker of mine posted this, and it made me think.
"...I do know that in life there is a need for sorrow, grief...even loss. It helps remind us what we have and to enjoy waking up in the morning...you (hopefully) gave everyone one last gift: a reminder that you never know what can happen tomorrow. Thank you for that, it's more than a lot of us deserved."
If this year of loss has taught me anything, it's to savour life and enjoy every minute you can. Life itself is too short for all the stress we put ourselves through, all the work we do. Life should be about living, and it makes me sad that death had to teach me that.
Be on the lookout for Klaus art, though. In honour of him, I'm planning a charcoal and coloured pencil piece on gray paper.
And if the Rainbow Bridge is real, maybe I'll see him again, someday.
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