The post that kills me to write.

It has been awhile. A bunch of crap has gone on. Some good. Some bad. In early March, I had a really, really hard time coping with the fact that I was *still* unemployed. As I sat alone, hiding out, with tears streaming down my cheeks, my cell phone rang. It was my old boss. He told me that his brother was looking for an office manager for his company. I got his info, gave him a call, went in for an interview and got the job. My first day was March 12. I can't say it's everything I ever hoped for, but my boss is great and it keeps food in my kid's bellies and a roof over our heads. Soon after I started there, my cat got very sick. I thought it was the end. But then, he got better. I was relieved. And then, things just started changing. On Sunday, April 29th, he couldn't get comfortable. He had been laying next to me in my chair, where he often would snuggle up with me while I would use my laptop or read a book. He kept getting up and repositioning himself. He was very restless. I took note of that, and then he jumped down and left the room. When he came back in, he jumped onto the arm of the chair and was face level with me. He rubbed his face against mine, loving on me, sniffing my lips and pushing his head against my lips so that I could give him kisses. I just thought he was being affectionate. It wasn't until the next day, I realized this was probably his way of thanking me for so many wonderful years, and telling me that he loved me. That night I woke up when he jumped down off the chair in our room and made a lot of noise. Again, he was restless, moving around the room. I knew something wasn't right. That morning he wouldn't eat. He drank a lot of water and then threw up. I left for work. I guess I was just hoping that I'd go to work, and he'd be better when I got home. I called to check up on him a couple hours later. He was still vomiting. And he cried out when he jumped up onto my dad's lap. I called the vet and left work in tears. I spent that day following my cat wherever he went. I wouldn't leave his side. He got progressively worse during the day. Twice he freaked out and dashed about the house like he was possessed. The kids got home from school, and I told them they had to say their goodbyes. That was incredibly hard to do. When it came time to leave, Cosmo was surprisingly calm on the car ride over to the vet. I told him he was such a good boy, and that I loved him so much. I stayed with him in the room while the vet administered the shot. It was so quick. I never would have imagined it would have been over so quickly, but it was. They left me in the room with him for as long as I wanted. I couldn't stop petting him. It was awful to have to leave that room, leave him just lying there. I got home, went upstairs, crawled into bed and sobbed. It has been almost a month now since I said goodbye to my best friend. My heart still aches tremendously, and even as I write this, I have tears streaming down my face. His ashes are in a special urn with an engraved face of a cat on it. We are in the process of putting together a special memorial spot for him amongst our flower bed in the yard. I still feel an emptiness and a longing for my pal. I find myself still looking in the places he liked to lay, expecting to find him there. I find myself with his name on the tip of my tongue, just about to call out to him. And then I realize he's no longer here. I wonder when it will ever stop hurting. I miss you so much, Cosmo. So, so much.