Dear Monkey:
It is with unbearable pain and sadness that I write this. The loss and the emptiness is as bad as anything we have ever felt before. There is a hole in our hearts. We are devastated. You were ripped from our lives one week ago. Your mommy and I would do anything to have you back. The 11 years and 4 months that we had you just went by too fast. It seems like just yesterday we brought you home for the first time.
You brought us immense joy, love and amusement. You made us laugh so many times. And you inserted yourself into the centre of whatever we were doing so naturally. You were a huge part of our lives and there are no words to convey how much we miss you. When I come home and you’re not there, I die a thousand deaths. It is a pain worse than death.
The first morning you were with us, we made you a scrambled egg. It didn’t take long. On the second morning, you were right there in the middle of the kitchen as we made breakfast, demanding your egg. And right from the first night, you made it clear that the bed was yours. Your comfort came first. You stretched out and took your half right out of the middle. Your mommy and I had to squeeze to the sides so as not to disturb you. But that was okay. A small price to pay for the incredible joy you brought into our lives. Your personality, character and intelligence were truly unique.
I remember often stopping at the A & W in Cambridge on the way home from work. You would get a Baby Burger all to yourself. And then there was the condo in Don Mills. How you would run down the hall, hide behind the plant, and then peek around the corner to make sure mommy & daddy were still coming. You made us laugh in ways that only you could.
Any water glass left on the side table at home was yours. If it was there, you claimed it. Oh how it pains me now when I place a glass of water there and you’re not there to take it.
At mealtime, mommy and I always had to pull out three chairs. You joined us. The three of us ate together. Mommy and I were the lucky ones. When I pull out a kitchen chair now, and you’re not there to jump in it and wait for your butter, I feel a loss that leaves me almost unable to move. My heart is broken. Joy, meaning and purpose have gone.
I can’t believe you’re gone now. When I look at the sliding patio doors at the back of the house now, and you’re not there, and never will be again…I would do anything to see you there again, waiting to be let in. You were taken from us too soon. Life does this sometimes to people. A hole that cannot be filled. A pain for which there is no cure. Only time.
Monkey, I have more questions than answers. I don’t know how or why things work the way they do sometimes. I just know that on July 2, 2004, an eight week old kitten came into our lives, and our lives would never be the same. You may have only weighed a couple of pounds, but your impact was tremendous.
Your mommy and I need to believe that you are in a good place now, where you are comfortable and happy, and where we will someday see you again. We need to believe this to help cope with the unbearable pain we are feeling.
You are in our hearts. The memories will last forever. Thank you for being you and for sharing your life with us. We love you always.
Mommy & Daddy
It is with unbearable pain and sadness that I write this. The loss and the emptiness is as bad as anything we have ever felt before. There is a hole in our hearts. We are devastated. You were ripped from our lives one week ago. Your mommy and I would do anything to have you back. The 11 years and 4 months that we had you just went by too fast. It seems like just yesterday we brought you home for the first time.
You brought us immense joy, love and amusement. You made us laugh so many times. And you inserted yourself into the centre of whatever we were doing so naturally. You were a huge part of our lives and there are no words to convey how much we miss you. When I come home and you’re not there, I die a thousand deaths. It is a pain worse than death.
The first morning you were with us, we made you a scrambled egg. It didn’t take long. On the second morning, you were right there in the middle of the kitchen as we made breakfast, demanding your egg. And right from the first night, you made it clear that the bed was yours. Your comfort came first. You stretched out and took your half right out of the middle. Your mommy and I had to squeeze to the sides so as not to disturb you. But that was okay. A small price to pay for the incredible joy you brought into our lives. Your personality, character and intelligence were truly unique.
I remember often stopping at the A & W in Cambridge on the way home from work. You would get a Baby Burger all to yourself. And then there was the condo in Don Mills. How you would run down the hall, hide behind the plant, and then peek around the corner to make sure mommy & daddy were still coming. You made us laugh in ways that only you could.
Any water glass left on the side table at home was yours. If it was there, you claimed it. Oh how it pains me now when I place a glass of water there and you’re not there to take it.
At mealtime, mommy and I always had to pull out three chairs. You joined us. The three of us ate together. Mommy and I were the lucky ones. When I pull out a kitchen chair now, and you’re not there to jump in it and wait for your butter, I feel a loss that leaves me almost unable to move. My heart is broken. Joy, meaning and purpose have gone.
I can’t believe you’re gone now. When I look at the sliding patio doors at the back of the house now, and you’re not there, and never will be again…I would do anything to see you there again, waiting to be let in. You were taken from us too soon. Life does this sometimes to people. A hole that cannot be filled. A pain for which there is no cure. Only time.
Monkey, I have more questions than answers. I don’t know how or why things work the way they do sometimes. I just know that on July 2, 2004, an eight week old kitten came into our lives, and our lives would never be the same. You may have only weighed a couple of pounds, but your impact was tremendous.
Your mommy and I need to believe that you are in a good place now, where you are comfortable and happy, and where we will someday see you again. We need to believe this to help cope with the unbearable pain we are feeling.
You are in our hearts. The memories will last forever. Thank you for being you and for sharing your life with us. We love you always.
Mommy & Daddy
