Saying Goodbye

I’ve been procrastinating, I’ll admit it.  I know this blog needs to be written, but the task is one that is carried out with a heavy heart.  Much of our work at HSAPL is happy and uplifting.  We are dedicated to saving lives, after all.  However, the sad reality is that not every life can be saved.  Dealing with loss is also a part of our experience.  Sometimes the cats that come to us are beyond our help.  The best we can do is to offer them a soft bed and loving care to ease their journey out of this world.  Sometimes their lives have been shortened by previous hardships and they slip away without warning, their still bodies discovered by a volunteer or our executive director, while making the rounds at the end of day.

Whatever the circumstances, every loss is felt deeply, and every life mourned.  Just a few weeks ago I was out at Caring Fields when Pam Walker, our executive director, approached me.  Her usual smile seemed strained and her blue eyes looked a bit red. “We lost one today,” she whispered, her voice catching as she fought back tears.  Forest, a campground favorite, had succumbed to illness, despite having been to the vet the day before.   Sometimes there just isn’t anything to be done but that doesn’t make it any easier to say goodbye.

Every time a cat crosses “the rainbow bridge” a tribute is written and an email sent out.  Often Allison, one of our volunteers, will share an anecdote and a photo with readers, and stories trickle in about that particular cat.  A memorial plaque has recently been created in which each of the deceased cats is honored with a listing.  There is really no way to erase the sadness, but we try to comfort one another and celebrate the specialness of each lost cat.

There are many poems written about death, but I particularly like the following:

A POEM FOR THE GRIEVING...

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die...

-Anonymous