Old things pass away.

That statement is so true.

I was reading some of my posts in my old blog from Christmases past, waxing nostalgic, I suppose. Missing family and friends, missing snowy wintry mornings, the hustle and bustle of preparing for Christmas, the Pennsylvania mountains capped in snow.

And Noodles.


Last night, it hit me so hard that she is gone and I cried and cried, Boo heard me and came in my bedroom, sat behind me and wrapped her arms around me. Even with her own hurt and heartache, she wanted to comfort her mama.

Oh, I loved all the cats, but Noodles was so special, so unique in personality, that from the first moment I set eyes on her in the pet store, I was in love.

It was that little orange face.



Last night it hit me that she is really gone, maybe it was when I came home from work and she wasn't there, running across the yard to see me.



I think that if she had died naturally, it wouldn't be easy, but it would be a bit easier to accept.



The part that really hurts is that they took her away as if she had no value, as if she meant nothing. As if no one loved her.



But she was worth something, she was loved. And she is sorely missed.



I am working through my grief one day at a time, one prayer at a time. Some people may not understand the grief one feels at the loss of a beloved pet, but it is real, it is painful. She was part of my family, and every where I look there are memories, her laying in the kitchen window, dashing across the yard, rubbing against the dog.



I would tell her to give me some love, and she would jump on my lap and rub her face against mine, purring and happy.

Some day, I know that the hurt will ease, and I will be able to remember her with a smile, but for now, I grieve her loss.

In the meantime, I grasp onto the hope I have in Jesus, my greatest Comforter. Last night I had a dream that I was walking in a meadow, I was heartbroken and lonely and crying. I found a path that led to a beautiful valley and Jesus was there, just sitting there as if He was waiting for me. I went to my knees before Him and told Him that I wasn't worthy for Him to even look upon, but He lifted my face and looked at me and told me that He loved me. I cried at His feet, and He put His hand on my head.

Even in my dreams I seek Him.

Psalm 147:3
He heals the brokenhearted
and binds up their wounds.