Grief Stricken

Anybody who follows the saga of Kiki and J-Fed knows that the story has its ups and its downs. Over the last few months, it has most definitely hit an all new low. It’s more than just the fighting, the squabbling, the accusations, the threats. I’m amazed at how far we’ve gone in a matter of months.

Almost overnight we made the smooth transition from unhappily married to delightfully divorced. And although that’s what some of us wanted, the sensible split became incredibly acrimonious. From “I hate you” to “If I never saw you again, my world would be a much happier place,” we no longer mince words. Whatever cruel comment comes to mind, it’s usually dished out with a mere slip of the tongue.

Said bitterness has been ongoing since our little family vacation in June… until Thursday. Thursday was the day to end all bad days. It was little man’s last day as we were forced to end his suffering. J-Fed and I called a truce as we couldn’t even stomach an argument due to how inconsolable we were.

Still reeling from the shock of our beloved pet’s death, we did what comes naturally to most people who have shared a loss – we communicated. There was phone call after phone call from both parties.

“I miss him,” I’d tell J-Fed tearfully.

“I feel sick over this whole thing. I can’t even think about it,” he’d cry.

Although we had become sworn adversaries, sometimes your worst enemies become your best friends under certain circumstances, and this was one of them. For a short period of time, we were bound together once again by the love we had for our sweet baby.

Hands down the most painful conversation came out of nowhere. I was crying hysterically on the phone, and so was J-Fed. The grieving process was horribly painful, as anyone who’s ever lost a loved one, a special pet or anything that mean something to them. And in this case, it was no different for us.