Gotta write

I maybe shouldn't write tonight because the heartbreak is so raw, so new.  We got her from a shelter in 2005 just a month or so after I first came down with disabling symptoms.  She has been my companion through all of them.  Through every single one.  She purred next to me when I was sure I'd die from pain.  She rubbed against me an "I love you" when I was devastatingly lonely and isolated.  And today, she died sort of in my arms as I sang her our song, You Are My Sunshine, while we were in a Lyft on the way to the vet.  She was still breathing when we got there, but they told me she was gone by the time the nurse brought her back to the doctors.  The worst, the absolute worst is this:  I fed her this morning and she didn't seem to be as strong as she was for the last few days, but, I had to get on the bus to go to Dallas for a neurology appointment.  At the doctor's office, I learn that, in fact, I have an appointment next Friday, not today.  And I was so f******g cheap that I wouldn't take a Lyft home, or call a friend, I just decided since I didn't feel so bad that I had my crochet and my lunch and a book, and I'd just wait the few hours.  I should've come home.  I just should've.  At least she wouldn't have been alone when she collapsed, which is how I found her.  God I hope she heard me singing.  She was my sunshine.  Sweet Evy.

Grateful that the Lord took the decision from me and Tim.  Truly grateful for that.  And for her presence in our lives.