When I was 18, I knew exactly how to live, what and how to do, what to strive for. I had a whole bunch of dreams and I tried to make all of them true. When I got about 30, I was already not sure about many things, not always knew what I want, doubted about possibility of making true at least half of my dreams. Now, I almost constantly don’t understand absolutely what’s happening around and for what all of this. I got just one dream left: health of loved ones and life with them in peace and serenity. Even this single dream is vandalized by fate: it breaks off one piece (decease of one loved one), then gnaws out another one (the death of the other).
They say tests are sent to us to temper. “What does not kill you will make you stronger”. Where did they get that I want to be stronger? In any case, not at such a price.
Perhaps, it’s impossible to understand and explain why do some people become dear to us, grow into our souls, merge with them, while others remain only fellow travelers, often temporary. The same with pets. We love some of them, appreciate and protect but they still remain just our wards, life companions. On the contrary, others grow into us, a special relationship establishes with them, they become a part of ourselves.
When dies such creature (no matter human or animal), after, when with great difficulty, but still, finally, you realize this fact, becomes the feeling like a huge piece of you was torn out, and nothing will heal this wound ever. Yes, you slightly begin to get used to the emptiness, to the hole in your soul. But that’s just a habit. It’s not easier to feel this emptiness.
And a guilt. No matter how good you showed yourself, how much love, tenderness and care you gave, after his death, all the same it seems that you gave insufficiently, that you could give more. And nowhere to escape from this guilt.
Time doesn’t heal. And in general, nothing can heal this. You just can get used to this pain and share it with someone close to you. And to remember the good things that were. After all, until death was a lot of good. And this should not be forgotten in any case because it’s much more important than death. This exactly is really important.
We don’t know what is expecting us after the death. We can only believe or hope – who can do what.
As for me, I want to believe. To believe in the words written by Mikhail Bulgakov: “It will be given to each one according to his faith”. I believe that all those who are dear to me, and who are no longer alive – all of them I will meet after the death. So it’s easier for me. In the end, I don’t lose anything. If all of us there are waited by nothingness, nobody will know it.
See you, my dear cat, my Masyuk!