I ain't feeling merry yet...(long)

Singh wrote in message ...
I'm exhausted, simply put. Mandatory overtime at work for the holidays,
spending the rest of the time doing for Joycie and visiting our buddy
who, we just learned, is in ICU with a bitching case of pneumonia so bad
they had to put him on a respirator (purrs for James, please! He has a
collapsed lung and is in rotten shape.) and I am worn thin. This is why
you haven't seen me here in a few days. I love you all, but I'd been
needing some beauty rest because I am a freaking mess right now.
(snipped for length)


((((((Baha)))))))) We are sending heartfelt purrs your way.

------
Krista

Singh wrote:
I'm exhausted, simply put. Mandatory overtime at work for the
holidays, spending the rest of the time doing for Joycie and visiting
our buddy who, we just learned, is in ICU with a bitching case of
pneumonia so bad they had to put him on a respirator (purrs for
James, please! He has a collapsed lung and is in rotten shape.) and I
am worn thin. This is why you haven't seen me here in a few days. I
love you all, but I'd been needing some beauty rest because I am a
freaking mess right now.
snip

Hugs and purrs, Baha. This is the most difficult time of year for many
of us, December 12th will be the 5th aniversary of my little brother's
suicide. I think about him every day. I didn't have a car at the time so
I had to ask my neighbour, who was also my best friend, to take me to my
brother's house. That was the last time I saw him, he died three days
later. His funeral was the same day as my brother's. I wish I could
hibernate until spring.
--
Adrian (Owned by Snoopy & Bagheera)
A house is not a home, without a cat.

On Sat, 4 Dec 2004 09:32:41 +1100, "Yowie"
wrote:

The holiday season doesn't make Joel or I particualrly happy either. Joel
has his share of abusive memories from his stepfather - the worse one, I
think was him telling me of a Christmas where his younger brother & sister
(children of his stepfather) had masses of presents under the tree, and he
was just so happy to get a packet of plastic toy soldiers. That was his
*only* present, and he had to get it upstairs, in secret, from his mother.
That just about broke my heart. Other Christmasses were worse, apprantly, as
said stepfather was an abusive alcohoic, and as soon as Joel as old enough
to attempt to defend his mother from beign beaten up, his stepfather turned
his attention to Joel isntead. He still has a star-shaped scar on his temple
where his step father hit him with a brick. How Joel survived that, without
brain damage, is a small miracle. So you can understand why he isn't happy
at Christmas.

{{{{Joel}}}}. I am so sorry he had to go through that horror.

My memories of childhood Christmases are happy ones, but I just don't like
they hype and the mad mad rush in the shops, I generally don't have enough
money to afford the presents I'm expected to get, and always end up in debt,
and I especailly resent the "oh, but we've got to be all nice and happy"
sort of thing.

We're both hoping that next year, when Cary starts to understand Christmas,
we can enjoy it through his eyes. We did get a nice photo of all of us with
Santa, which brought happy tears to my eyes. I guess we have to make
Christmas a special time, so that Cary can have happy memories. And one of
the most important things, I think, is to instill in him the idea that being
generous, compassionate and kind is not something we should do *only* at
Christmas, because if we are to believe in the message of Christmas at all,
its something we should do all our lives.

Yowie


---
Outgoing mail is certified Virus Free.
Checked by AVG anti-virus system (http://www.grisoft.com).
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I'm sure Cary will carry (sorry for the pun!) wonderful
Xmas/Solstice/Yule/etc. memories with him for the rest of his life,
thanks to you and Joel.

Ginger-lyn

Soncek and I are purring and sending best wishes for you, Baha, and everyone
else on this very special group who is not feeling well. Holidays can be
really hard, especially with so many unhappy memories. I do hope this year's
holidays will be wonderful for everyone in this group and their families and
friends.
Wishing you all the very best,
--
Polonca & Soncek

"Singh" wrote in message
...
I'm exhausted, simply put. Mandatory overtime at work for the holidays,
spending the rest of the time doing for Joycie and visiting our buddy
who, we just learned, is in ICU with a bitching case of pneumonia so bad
they had to put him on a respirator (purrs for James, please! He has a
collapsed lung and is in rotten shape.) and I am worn thin. This is why
you haven't seen me here in a few days. I love you all, but I'd been
needing some beauty rest because I am a freaking mess right now.

I don't like this season all too much. snip

((((((((((((Baha))))))))))))

Purrs coming that this year will be a good holiday for you. Others
have already said how this season can be bittersweet for so many.
--
Steve Touchstone,
faithful servant of Sammy, Little Bit and Rocky (RB)

[remove Junk for email]
Home Page: http://www.sirinet.net/~stouchst/index.html
Cat Pix: http://www.sirinet.net/~stouchst/animals.html

"Adrian" wrote in message
...
Singh wrote:
I'm exhausted, simply put. Mandatory overtime at work for the
holidays, spending the rest of the time doing for Joycie and visiting
our buddy who, we just learned, is in ICU with a bitching case of
pneumonia so bad they had to put him on a respirator (purrs for
James, please! He has a collapsed lung and is in rotten shape.) and I
am worn thin. This is why you haven't seen me here in a few days. I
love you all, but I'd been needing some beauty rest because I am a
freaking mess right now.
snip

Hugs and purrs, Baha. This is the most difficult time of year for many
of us, December 12th will be the 5th aniversary of my little brother's
suicide. I think about him every day. I didn't have a car at the time so
I had to ask my neighbour, who was also my best friend, to take me to my
brother's house. That was the last time I saw him, he died three days
later. His funeral was the same day as my brother's. I wish I could
hibernate until spring.
--
Adrian (Owned by Snoopy & Bagheera)
A house is not a home, without a cat.


Oh, Adrian. I know how you feel, I had such a close sudden bereavement
myself in 2003, at New Year. I was not getting over it at all and sunk into
clinical depression. Symptoms exactly like Catnipped posted. So if
symptoms are the same in everyone, it's an illness, it's not in your mind.
I tried to fight it by myself, but couldn't. My cousin took me to the
doctor (I don't suppose I would have gone myself) and I got an
anti-depressant and a counsellor.
The counsellor was brilliant. It helped a lot because he was a
depression-survivor himself. He understood everything.
What I learnt among a lot of other things, is that the bereavement happened.
Nothing will take that away. I can make a choice. Either live the rest of
my life dwelling on it, and making myself miserable about something I had no
control over, or try and learn to live with it. I was sort of comfortable in
my grief, I'd got used to it, but yet it made me sad and miserable too.
SO. Although it was very hard, I decided to accept what had happened,
difficult as it was, and with no warning. Like yourself, Adrian. No
warning. That's the the worst thing, isn't it? A member of your family,
whom you love, dies without warning you they are going to.
I could have remained in this mindset for the rest of my life. Mourning
every birthday, every Christmas and New Year.
I don't want to be sad for the rest of my life. My counsellor has helped so
much with this.
There *is* hope after bereavement and depression. The trouble is when you
are in the depths of depression you don't have any motivation to get help.

((Hugs, Adrian)) I know exactly how it is. You will be fine in a while.
Ah, bless your little cotton socks (as we say here in Leics)

Tweed
been there, done it, got the video and tee-shirt :-/
thought about you know what..

Oh Baha,after reading your letter I realise how inconsequential I am,
we were always poor, but we were always loved and never abused,
I was always happy, I'm sitting here wondering why some people
have such a hard life, and others dont, and I feel so bad for you.
I hope and pray that for the rest of your life nothing bad will ever happen
to you again, most of the children I've fostered, have had a bad start in
life
and I know how bad it can affect the lives of those who suffer
abuse,cruelty, or even neglect. Wilson and I are sending 'be happy' Purrs
and lots of
big Hugs to you with love and blessings Jean.P.



Singh wrote in message
...
I'm exhausted, simply put. Mandatory overtime at work for the holidays,
spending the rest of the time doing for Joycie and visiting our buddy
who, we just learned, is in ICU with a bitching case of pneumonia so bad
they had to put him on a respirator (purrs for James, please! He has a
collapsed lung and is in rotten shape.) and I am worn thin. This is why
you haven't seen me here in a few days. I love you all, but I'd been
needing some beauty rest because I am a freaking mess right now.

I don't like this season all too much. Christmas was the most horrid
time of the year as I was growing up, because there was more abuse. I
sometimes had to "earn the right" to get presents by getting beaten, or
touched. I had my first nervous breakdown (which caused an amnesia that
lasted almost 20 years) less than a week before Christmas, when I had
just turned 14. To this day I have trouble remembering anything prior to
1978.

I'm sorry. I hate being a whiner, being weak. In addition to my
psychiatrist, I began counseling at the Jewish Center here in Buffalo,
hoping they had experience with Holocaust-related issues. Survivors,
yes. Remarkably, there are no studies on descendants of survivors, and
were they surprised to learn I'm a Sikh! I suppose you just don't see a
pale, redheaded Sikh every day. Learning that my father actually got
into the camps for helping smuggle Jews out of Poland is making it even
more confusing for those poor social workers.

Last year on December 8, the following things happened in a space of
three hours:
1. I lost my day job.
2. I had to start the evening job I took for the season.
3. I got my period.
4. We had to put our Fritzie to sleep.

He was 19, and the day before had been fine. Then the morning of the
8th, he just crashed and burned. The vet warned us. Liver failure.
Still, he managed to do everything he loved one last time. He went
outside and sat under his favorite rosebush a while. He munched a bit of
catnip, and played with his little tassel on a sting thing, albeit
weakly. He went to every room and meowed loudly, as if he wanted to
leave the resonance behind. And then we took him.

I am indebted to the Georgetown Animal Clinic, and will never refer to
any of their vets as the "TED." They gave Fritzie a bit of painkiller
and allowed us to perform our prayers and blessings for the dying as is
done in Sikh tradition. I held him like a baby as Louie read the Ardaas,
the final prayer, which asks that, in all things, that God/dess be
remembered and that those who nobly lived be nobly received.

How noble was our Fritzie? When there was a suffering creature at the
vet's office, he'd go and make affectionate gestures that always seemed
to calm them down. The poor creatures who were about to cross over
always seemed less tense and less in pain after Fritzie rubbed up on
them. And when it was his time and he heard the heartbreaking sound of a
dog in pain who was about to be euthanized, he tried to jump at the door
to go to him. This is why I'll jump down someone's throat, who says a
cat is cold or animals are just dumb beasts. As Lewis Carroll once
wrote, if God loves sinful man, how much more must he love the animals,
who cannot sin!

When we were leaving, everyone in the office stood up. Ever see "To Kill
a Mockingbird," when Atticus loses the Robinson case and, despite this,
the defendant's friends and neighbors stand to salute his attorney?
That's what it was like. They all loved Fritzie. He was their research
boy for feline diabetes, and he was also their poster boy for diabetes
screening and their example of how a cat can have great quality of life
with consistent and watchful care. But they also thought he was a sweet
and noble fellow, with a great wisdom and dignity. He was saluted by the
staff, and the clients who knew him, as if a great leader had left this
world. Perhaps it was so; he was spiritual, and was attracted to
prayers, holy music, and meditation. I think there must be an aura of
sorts around a person in prayer, and a cat can sense it.

That night I went on a shopping freak before starting the temp job at
the mall, and had to call Louie to take away my debit card. I swear on
my mother's dentures that I don't remember buying that makeup. I took
four valium before starting at Bath & Body Works. I don't remember much
about my first night there either.

When we received the ashes we had our last ceremony. Sikhs release the
ashes of their cremated loved ones into running water. Water represents
cleansing for our souls and the power of God/dess (our Gurus taught that
the Supreme is One, yet both Mother and Father) to refresh us in our
grief. It is not seen as a throwing away, but giving the remains back to
our Mother Earth in recognition of the teaching that our divine creator
restores as well as destroys. Our prayer for the dying says that nature
performs the true ritual worship, and while the soul is united with
God/dess as a bride with her mate, the earthly part of the being joins
with nature in praise.

The vets sent us magnificent roses. Perhaps they knew that Fritzie's
favorite place was beneath a large rosebush in our back yard. We
carefull saved the petals and placed them in the carved rosewood box
they'd given us for his ashes. After a year, they still smell of roses.
We also received a surprise; before preparing Fritzie for his crossing,
the doctor made an imprint of his paw, had it formed into a heart-shaped
ornament with his name, and sent it to us. We keep in in the box with
the rose petals, and it has taken in the sweet scent. He had huge paws.
But then, he had a huge spirit.

So you'll excuse me, I hope, if I'm a little bah-humbug right now. I
love my four babies dearly, but that day was just harrowing. I've been
having nightmares of late, of "losing" one of my cats: them running off,
or me literally misplacing them. Like you can misplace a cat! Last night
I had a misplaced Brandy dream. Right. She is the most in-your-face of
the four, coming in to walk on us at 4 AM until one of us wakes up to
pet her.

I want to be merry. But damn it's hard. I'm really good at coming up
with pep talks for others, why can't I pep myself? Lewis Carroll again:
"She gave herself very good advice, though she very seldom took it!"

Blessed be,
Baha

"Jean Hobbs" wrote in message
...
Oh Baha,after reading your letter I realise how inconsequential I am,

Jean, I hope you meant to write that your "problems" are inconsequential -
for you are certainly not inconsequential! Even so, someone's problems are
never inconsequential to them even though it is good to "get out of
yourself" and try to help someone whose problems pur your own into
perspective.

we were always poor, but we were always loved and never abused,
I was always happy, I'm sitting here wondering why some people
have such a hard life, and others dont, and I feel so bad for you.
I hope and pray that for the rest of your life nothing bad will ever
happen
to you again, most of the children I've fostered, have had a bad start in
life
and I know how bad it can affect the lives of those who suffer
abuse,cruelty, or even neglect. Wilson and I are sending 'be happy' Purrs
and lots of
big Hugs to you with love and blessings Jean.P.

Ah, see, you are the very opposite of inconsequential - you are one of the
angels who dwell here in the world with us caring for those who have been
harmed by the demons who also, unfortunately, dwell here with us.

Hugs,

CatNipped

Singh wrote in message
...
I'm exhausted, simply put. Mandatory overtime at work for the holidays,
spending the rest of the time doing for Joycie and visiting our buddy
who, we just learned, is in ICU with a bitching case of pneumonia so bad
they had to put him on a respirator (purrs for James, please! He has a
collapsed lung and is in rotten shape.) and I am worn thin. This is why
you haven't seen me here in a few days. I love you all, but I'd been
needing some beauty rest because I am a freaking mess right now.

I don't like this season all too much. Christmas was the most horrid
time of the year as I was growing up, because there was more abuse. I
sometimes had to "earn the right" to get presents by getting beaten, or
touched. I had my first nervous breakdown (which caused an amnesia that
lasted almost 20 years) less than a week before Christmas, when I had
just turned 14. To this day I have trouble remembering anything prior to
1978.

I'm sorry. I hate being a whiner, being weak. In addition to my
psychiatrist, I began counseling at the Jewish Center here in Buffalo,
hoping they had experience with Holocaust-related issues. Survivors,
yes. Remarkably, there are no studies on descendants of survivors, and
were they surprised to learn I'm a Sikh! I suppose you just don't see a
pale, redheaded Sikh every day. Learning that my father actually got
into the camps for helping smuggle Jews out of Poland is making it even
more confusing for those poor social workers.

Last year on December 8, the following things happened in a space of
three hours:
1. I lost my day job.
2. I had to start the evening job I took for the season.
3. I got my period.
4. We had to put our Fritzie to sleep.

He was 19, and the day before had been fine. Then the morning of the
8th, he just crashed and burned. The vet warned us. Liver failure.
Still, he managed to do everything he loved one last time. He went
outside and sat under his favorite rosebush a while. He munched a bit of
catnip, and played with his little tassel on a sting thing, albeit
weakly. He went to every room and meowed loudly, as if he wanted to
leave the resonance behind. And then we took him.

I am indebted to the Georgetown Animal Clinic, and will never refer to
any of their vets as the "TED." They gave Fritzie a bit of painkiller
and allowed us to perform our prayers and blessings for the dying as is
done in Sikh tradition. I held him like a baby as Louie read the Ardaas,
the final prayer, which asks that, in all things, that God/dess be
remembered and that those who nobly lived be nobly received.

How noble was our Fritzie? When there was a suffering creature at the
vet's office, he'd go and make affectionate gestures that always seemed
to calm them down. The poor creatures who were about to cross over
always seemed less tense and less in pain after Fritzie rubbed up on
them. And when it was his time and he heard the heartbreaking sound of a
dog in pain who was about to be euthanized, he tried to jump at the door
to go to him. This is why I'll jump down someone's throat, who says a
cat is cold or animals are just dumb beasts. As Lewis Carroll once
wrote, if God loves sinful man, how much more must he love the animals,
who cannot sin!

When we were leaving, everyone in the office stood up. Ever see "To Kill
a Mockingbird," when Atticus loses the Robinson case and, despite this,
the defendant's friends and neighbors stand to salute his attorney?
That's what it was like. They all loved Fritzie. He was their research
boy for feline diabetes, and he was also their poster boy for diabetes
screening and their example of how a cat can have great quality of life
with consistent and watchful care. But they also thought he was a sweet
and noble fellow, with a great wisdom and dignity. He was saluted by the
staff, and the clients who knew him, as if a great leader had left this
world. Perhaps it was so; he was spiritual, and was attracted to
prayers, holy music, and meditation. I think there must be an aura of
sorts around a person in prayer, and a cat can sense it.

That night I went on a shopping freak before starting the temp job at
the mall, and had to call Louie to take away my debit card. I swear on
my mother's dentures that I don't remember buying that makeup. I took
four valium before starting at Bath & Body Works. I don't remember much
about my first night there either.

When we received the ashes we had our last ceremony. Sikhs release the
ashes of their cremated loved ones into running water. Water represents
cleansing for our souls and the power of God/dess (our Gurus taught that
the Supreme is One, yet both Mother and Father) to refresh us in our
grief. It is not seen as a throwing away, but giving the remains back to
our Mother Earth in recognition of the teaching that our divine creator
restores as well as destroys. Our prayer for the dying says that nature
performs the true ritual worship, and while the soul is united with
God/dess as a bride with her mate, the earthly part of the being joins
with nature in praise.

The vets sent us magnificent roses. Perhaps they knew that Fritzie's
favorite place was beneath a large rosebush in our back yard. We
carefull saved the petals and placed them in the carved rosewood box
they'd given us for his ashes. After a year, they still smell of roses.
We also received a surprise; before preparing Fritzie for his crossing,
the doctor made an imprint of his paw, had it formed into a heart-shaped
ornament with his name, and sent it to us. We keep in in the box with
the rose petals, and it has taken in the sweet scent. He had huge paws.
But then, he had a huge spirit.

So you'll excuse me, I hope, if I'm a little bah-humbug right now. I
love my four babies dearly, but that day was just harrowing. I've been
having nightmares of late, of "losing" one of my cats: them running off,
or me literally misplacing them. Like you can misplace a cat! Last night
I had a misplaced Brandy dream. Right. She is the most in-your-face of
the four, coming in to walk on us at 4 AM until one of us wakes up to
pet her.

I want to be merry. But damn it's hard. I'm really good at coming up
with pep talks for others, why can't I pep myself? Lewis Carroll again:
"She gave herself very good advice, though she very seldom took it!"

Blessed be,
Baha

Jean Hobbs wrote:

Oh Baha,after reading your letter I realise how inconsequential I am,

Bullpucky. You are not inconsequential!


we were always poor, but we were always loved and never abused,
I was always happy, I'm sitting here wondering why some people
have such a hard life, and others dont, and I feel so bad for you.
I hope and pray that for the rest of your life nothing bad will ever happen
to you again, most of the children I've fostered, have had a bad start in
life
and I know how bad it can affect the lives of those who suffer
abuse,cruelty, or even neglect.

How can one be inconsequential when one gives a new start to a living being who
may have descended into a worse fate but for you?

Wilson and I are sending 'be happy' Purrs
and lots of
big Hugs to you with love and blessings

Thanks. I think it's working because I'm starting to regain my backbone. Purrs,
and rest...lots of rest!

Blessed be,
Baha

Adrian wrote:

Hugs and purrs, Baha. This is the most difficult time of year for many
of us, December 12th will be the 5th aniversary of my little brother's
suicide. I think about him every day. I didn't have a car at the time so
I had to ask my neighbour, who was also my best friend, to take me to my
brother's house. That was the last time I saw him, he died three days
later. His funeral was the same day as my brother's. I wish I could
hibernate until spring.

I hope you'll be able to feel the big fat hug I'm sending you through the
ethers, Adrian. I can not begin to imagine how you must feel. I just hope
that, someday, it will be better.

Blessed be,
Baha


--
Adrian (Owned by Snoopy & Bagheera)
A house is not a home, without a cat.