"almost losing a pet after a loss"

Mr. Milo; 2023

This post is inspired by a personal experience I had recently, and I realize it may not resonate with everyone—and that's okay. To those who have faced the heartbreaking loss of a beloved pet, especially after losing a loved one, my heart goes out to you. I can’t begin to imagine the depth of your pain, but I hope that what I share here offers some comfort, even in a small way. If it doesn’t, please know I understand, and I am truly sorry.

Like so many others, pets have always been an integral part of my family and personal life. Each one of them has been a cherished family member—even the surprise baby gerbils that arrived unexpectedly after we were confidently told we had two males.

I have a wonderful and quirky cat named Milo, named after the main character in Skeleton Twins. Next month, he’ll turn nine, which coincides with the six-month mark since my mom’s passing. Milo means the absolute world to me, and I’ll forever be grateful to my mom for spotting him one day at PetSmart. We adopted him that very day, and he’s been a spoiled and cherished little guy ever since.

Recently, Milo had to undergo a urinary catheterization, a cystoscopy, and a perineal urethrostomy. I’m so grateful that alarm bells went off in my head that Sunday because we later learned he was at risk of kidney failure, which could have been fatal. Thanks to our swift actions, Milo avoided kidney damage, and his lab results came back good.

Still, the thought of losing him hit me hard as I watched the emergency vet techs take him away. At that point, all we knew was that he likely had a urinary blockage. And let me tell you, signing those waivers and making decisions like whether to resuscitate or not—it’s enough to make anyone nervous.

That night at home, we received an update that the urinary catheterization had been successful. The vets also informed us about Milo’s bladder stones and outlined the next steps and treatment options. After careful consideration, we decided to move forward with both the cystoscopy and the perineal urethrostomy, along with transitioning him to a prescription wet food diet. Once again, I found myself signing a waiver—this time for two major surgeries.

Once again, my mind couldn’t help but wander to the possibility of losing my cat. What if he doesn’t make it? What if something goes wrong during surgery?

Another thought hit me even harder: I can’t lose my cat in the same year I lost my mom.

As I’ve been working hard to shift my mindset toward more positive thinking, a comforting thought began to take shape. Of course, I would be absolutely heartbroken if Milo passed away. But the idea of him being with my mom brought me a sense of peace. I imagined her taking care of him for me until the day I could join them both again.

While I don’t necessarily believe in a traditional heaven, I pictured her sitting on pristine marble steps, holding out her hand with some of Milo’s favorite treats. I imagined Milo, ever the cautious cat, nervously surveying his new surroundings. But the moment he recognized her, I saw him prance over, squeaking in excitement (he doesn’t really “meow”). In my mind, she greeted him with a warm smile, saying, “You weren’t supposed to be here yet, Mr. Milo!” as he happily scarfed down the treats before curling up beside her.

I’m incredibly grateful to say that Milo is doing well and healing beautifully. I’m so thankful I didn’t lose him. Just the other day, I found myself saying to him, “Thank you for being okay and staying here with me. I’m not ready for you to leave yet. But if that time ever comes, I know your Grammie would take such good care of you, and you’d meet so many of your four-legged siblings.”

While I can’t speak from the perspective of someone who has lost a pet after losing a loved one, I hope these words can offer even a small bit of comfort and help ease the edges of pain and sadness.

-j🌻

"continuing bonds"

Image Source: Bella H. on Pixabay.com

When we brought my mom and her urn home, I would often wait until late at night to go downstairs and speak to her. I would fight sleep or nearly fall asleep while talking to her. I felt the need to do this privately, when no one was around, because I worried that if others knew, they would think I had "lost it" or hadn’t accepted my mom’s passing.

But over time, I learned that this behavior is an example of "continuing bonds."

And in reality, it’s perfectly normal and healthy.

Continuing bonds in grief is the process of maintaining a relationship with your loved one, even after they’ve passed away, rather than severing that connection right away. That said, if you feel that ending the bond is what’s best for you, that is perfectly okay too.

Everyone grieves in their own way, and I understand that not every loss is experienced the same. For some, the person they lost may have caused pain, and their passing can bring closure, even a sense of relief in cutting that bond. On the other hand, if you had a loving relationship with your loved one and feel that continuing that bond helps you heal, that is perfectly normal as well. Ultimately, it's about what feels right for you.

If continuing a healthy bond with your loved one feels right for you, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You are allowed to talk to their picture, send them a text or email, or share updates with them in your mind. These actions are completely normal. There’s no rule that says once someone passes, you have to erase their existence and stop all forms of connection. And if anyone criticizes you for it, try not to let it bother you. In time, they might come back to you, apologize, and even tell you they now understand, because they too have found comfort in continuing their own bond.

Personally, I continue to nourish the bond I have with my mom. In August, it will be six months since her passing, yet I still talk to her before bed (albeit at a more reasonable hour and from my room). I send her silly videos I think she would enjoy, and I still hug "her" good morning and good night. These small acts bring me comfort and help me feel that she is still with me—and always will be.

This topic also ties into a previous post I wrote about "tenses." You can read that post by clicking Here.

-j🌻

"relationships may change"

Image Source: Nothing Ahead on Pexels

I read early on that relationships often change after losing a parent—or any loved one. I quickly noticed a sense of clarity about certain situations and found myself lacking the energy for specific people or circumstances. I was also deeply disappointed by some individuals I had expected to support me, as some were barely present or not there at all. On the other hand, I received incredible support from people I hadn’t anticipated, and I was pleasantly surprised by kind gestures from others I hadn’t expected much from. Losing a loved one can truly be an eye-opening experience when it comes to understanding relationships.

It’s also important to remember that some people simply don’t know what to say and, as a result, may remain silent or offer what feels like minimal support—often without intending to hurt you. Personally, I’d prefer someone to be honest and tell me that they don’t know what to say, rather than barely being there or not showing up at all. But, of course, I can’t control how others handle my loss. It can feel awkward to ask someone to acknowledge that limitation unless they bring it up themselves (though, if you feel comfortable doing so, I think that’s wonderful). As disappointing as these limitations can be, sometimes you have to accept that’s where they are, and that you can’t rely on them for support during your grief. You don’t necessarily have to end your relationship with them over this, but it’s important to recognize that they may not be able to provide the support you need in that capacity. With that in mind, I highly recommend seeking out online or in-person grief support groups, where your grief is seen, your pain is truly understood, and where you can receive meaningful advice.

On the other hand, as mentioned, people can also surprise you. You may find that those you expected to support you are doing exactly that—or even more. Personally, I felt a stronger connection to some people who had also lost their mothers. It also made me reflect, wondering, "Was I ever that person who wasn’t there enough or didn’t admit that I didn’t know what to say or do?" I’m fairly certain I was, because while I could empathize with others and their situations, I didn’t truly understand what it felt like until I lost someone I deeply loved.

Relationships can change in many ways after the passing of a loved one. Below are some of my reflections on the different dynamics I experienced:

the good:

Let’s start with the positive side.

Hopefully, the people you expected to support you truly do. Some may even go above and beyond. For me, I had a handful of people who fit into this category, and a few of them were heartwarming, pleasant surprises.

These people not only opened their doors for me to lean on them—physically and emotionally—but they also respected my boundaries as I navigated my grief. For months, I only felt comfortable seeing certain family members, and my friends never gave me any flak for this. They understood that I needed time to curl up in my "cave," mourning the emptiness beside me. They recognized that I was struggling with flashbacks and acute grief.

During this time, I focused on therapy, reading books on grief, and working on projects my mom had wanted to complete but couldn’t, like organizing the house, sewing a felt cat for my niece, and finishing a quilt for my mom’s nephew.

To those who were genuinely there for you during your grief, I recommend holding them close to your heart, as I do with mine. I found that the loss of my mom made certain connections with others even stronger, and I hope you’ve experienced the same.

the not so good:

As I mentioned earlier, sometimes relationships end after the loss of a loved one. Someone might intentionally say the wrong thing, cause unnecessary chaos, or show more interest in money than in your well-being. On a personal level, you may also realize that the person was only in your life because of the mutual connection to your loved one. If you feel that removing them from your life is the best choice, then I say go for it—but I recommend giving yourself a day or two to reflect before making that decision. When we’re hurt, we can sometimes act impulsively, only to regret it later. In my experience, it’s helpful to step back, take some time, and then decide, especially when it comes to something as significant as removing someone from your life. Keep in mind, too, that some people may not accept an apology later on.

There were a select few who truly fit into this category for me, and I’m not talking about people I realized I couldn’t rely on for support but still wanted to remain friends or family with. For me, the few who fell into this category were those who had treated my mom very poorly, both during her life and after her passing. Some even tried to make me regret putting my life on hold for three years to be there for her. After her loss, I realized I no longer had to keep these people in my life—especially those who had repeatedly used and abused my mom’s kindness, love, time, and even money. Knowing the pain and stress these individuals caused my mom, it became clear that removing them from my life was the best choice. And to be honest, it was also incredibly freeing.

You may find that this path is right for you as well, and if so, I hope it brings you the same sense of relief. As we grieve, we don’t need to carry additional trauma, heartache, or unnecessary drama that diverts our attention from our healing journey.

the indifferent:

This is a bit of a tricky category—the people you thought would change after the loss of your loved one but didn’t. The key difference between this category and the previous one is that it doesn’t have the same deeply negative impact on you. It’s more of a continuation of behavior, and honestly, it’s not really a surprise.

For me, the individuals who fell into this category were given opportunities—opportunities that initially came with hesitation or resounding "no's"—that others did not have, despite their extensive history of treating my mom poorly in various ways. We hoped that by giving them these chances, we would either start a new chapter or grow closer. However, shortly after, they returned to their old ways. While the disrespect initially caused a lot of anger, I now find myself mostly indifferent. I simply don’t have the energy to carry resentment anymore, but the lack of regard will always be something I remember.

It is what it is, and it always will be. However, depending on your situation, you can still choose to remove these individuals from your life if that’s what you feel is necessary for your peace.

the new:

This is one of the most incredible categories of people—the ones you meet at the door of a club that nobody wants to be a part of. They’re the ones who have gone through or are going through what you’ve just experienced. While not everyone will have the same perspective, the shared experience of losing someone close to us creates an unspoken bond that brings us together.

You can find these people in your personal life, in in-person grief groups, online grief communities, and more. I cannot recommend these types of groups enough. And this comes from someone who has done in-person group therapy before and ultimately prefers individualized therapy.

the overall:

Overall, it’s likely that your relationships with others will change after a loss. Some people may disappoint you, some may surprise you, and others may do exactly what you hoped they would. Ultimately, how you choose to handle these shifts is entirely up to you.

If you’re uncertain about how to navigate relationships after a loss, I highly recommend seeking therapy—whether individual or group. Having a third party (or third parties) offer insight can be incredibly helpful in sorting through your feelings. Personally, individualized therapy played a crucial role in helping me navigate my changing relationships.

-j🌻