After we had to put my Sweet Thing (my soul kitty) to sleep, there were close friends and family members who felt that I was grieving too much and too long. That this might somehow do me an injury. It wasn't that they were unsympathetic or unloving, just that they truly didn't understand that different people grieve differently and the importance of allowing the grief process to run to its conclusion. At some point, in self defense, I went to the library, to the section on grieving, and picked up the first book on the subject I found. It had a whole chapter on grieving pets, and is the source of most of the advice I give about grieving -- the rules of thumb from my previous message. I would happily credit the author, but at this point I don't even remember which book it was. However, those rules agree with everything on the subject that I've read since.
At that time (1989) there weren't any books in the library specifically on grieving pets, but even then the experts were saying that it's perfectly normal to grieve them, and for the loss of a pet to feel as important as the loss of any other family member would. Now, there are oodles of books about grieving pets, apparently because it's dawned on people in the mental health field that this is a major issue, for a lot of people. (Also because self-help books are a potent source of income, of course. But they still had to recognize that there's a market.)
When the death of a pet coincides with the anniversary of the death of a parent, that really complicates the grief process. My mom died last February, and this year I went into a major funk on the anniversary. I can't imagine how I would have handled it had I lost a pet as well on that day.
inkysmom , your feelings of guilt are perfectly normal; all of us have felt similar things. It's part of the bargaining phase of grief. (The so-called "stages of grief" are less useful than one might hope; for one thing grief isn't nearly that orderly -- you can be in denial one day, and in bargaining the next, and back in denial the day after that -- but that doesn't mean that they're false or useless.)
Even when we know that a loved one is dying and have given up on being able to save him, we still cling to hope that we can at least make it a "good" death, easy, and with lots of last minute loving to hold in our hearts after the loss. When circumstances conspire to deny us that comfort the brain rebels. It tries to change the past to something more palatable or, lacking the ability to do that, to change the future to prevent it from ever happening again. And in order to do that, the brain claims powers that it truly doesn't have. You could not have prevented the circumstances that kept you from having a more extended goodbye with Inky, but your emotions want to think that you could have, to protect you from the same thing happening again. And sometimes emotions would rather feel guilty than helpless, even (especially?) when feeling helpless is more accurate. (This is one of the reasons rape victims so frequently blame themselves, by the way.)
So I understand why you feel so guilty, but as a friend I feel that I must point out that these are feelings, and that, in this case, they aren't based on reality. That doesn't mean that they're unimportant; feelings are always important. It does mean that, in this case, they're unreliable, and you need to know that.
It may or may not be possible for you yet, but when you can manage it you would do better to hold all the loving from before Inky's illness in your heart. Try to concentrate on that rather than on your supposed failures on the final two days of Inky's life. That has the advantage of being real, and something that you honestly can hold in your heart forever, to honor Inky as he deserves.
Margret
At that time (1989) there weren't any books in the library specifically on grieving pets, but even then the experts were saying that it's perfectly normal to grieve them, and for the loss of a pet to feel as important as the loss of any other family member would. Now, there are oodles of books about grieving pets, apparently because it's dawned on people in the mental health field that this is a major issue, for a lot of people. (Also because self-help books are a potent source of income, of course. But they still had to recognize that there's a market.)
When the death of a pet coincides with the anniversary of the death of a parent, that really complicates the grief process. My mom died last February, and this year I went into a major funk on the anniversary. I can't imagine how I would have handled it had I lost a pet as well on that day.
inkysmom , your feelings of guilt are perfectly normal; all of us have felt similar things. It's part of the bargaining phase of grief. (The so-called "stages of grief" are less useful than one might hope; for one thing grief isn't nearly that orderly -- you can be in denial one day, and in bargaining the next, and back in denial the day after that -- but that doesn't mean that they're false or useless.)
Even when we know that a loved one is dying and have given up on being able to save him, we still cling to hope that we can at least make it a "good" death, easy, and with lots of last minute loving to hold in our hearts after the loss. When circumstances conspire to deny us that comfort the brain rebels. It tries to change the past to something more palatable or, lacking the ability to do that, to change the future to prevent it from ever happening again. And in order to do that, the brain claims powers that it truly doesn't have. You could not have prevented the circumstances that kept you from having a more extended goodbye with Inky, but your emotions want to think that you could have, to protect you from the same thing happening again. And sometimes emotions would rather feel guilty than helpless, even (especially?) when feeling helpless is more accurate. (This is one of the reasons rape victims so frequently blame themselves, by the way.)
So I understand why you feel so guilty, but as a friend I feel that I must point out that these are feelings, and that, in this case, they aren't based on reality. That doesn't mean that they're unimportant; feelings are always important. It does mean that, in this case, they're unreliable, and you need to know that.
It may or may not be possible for you yet, but when you can manage it you would do better to hold all the loving from before Inky's illness in your heart. Try to concentrate on that rather than on your supposed failures on the final two days of Inky's life. That has the advantage of being real, and something that you honestly can hold in your heart forever, to honor Inky as he deserves.
Margret