Quiet and Sad

I sat by Josee's grave tonight. I buried her in my grandparent's backyard the afternoon she died, ensconced in black velvet and a simple brown box.
It was heartbreaking watching her struggle to breath and then finally lie still in my arms as I sobbed hysterically into the ear of the vet tech at my animal hospital. I don't remember hanging up on the clinic, and I don't remember calling Jake but I must have done those things.

I have never lost an animal before (aside from Addie's babies, whom I barely knew). It seems strange, doesn't it? Considering how much I love animals and yet I have never had one that was solely mine pass from this world.

Josee wasn't a person. She wasn't my child, or my best friend, but she was very dear to me. I loved that little dumbo rat with all of me, and she had the best care and life I could possibly have given her.
And I don't feel one bit silly telling you that I miss her. I wish she hadn't died. I wish I could wake up tomorrow and she and Astrid would be fighting over who got to kiss me good morning first.
For one short moment, as I poured dirt into her grave, I had a vision of each of my animal's deaths and I thought it couldn't be worth it. But that isn't true, and it isn't me. Every one of my animal's lives is precious and I will care, love and treat them with respect until they day they pass on. Because to me, even the life of a little baby rat named Josee was important and meaningful.

It's late. I ought to have been in bed hours ago but I'm not. I was lying here trying to conjure of thoughts of sleep when I started thinking about how far I've come in the last few months.

I feel freer than I have in the past. I started coming more into myself, unapologetically. I made some decisions that weren't popular; everyone had an opinion on how to live my life, but part of growing up is taking that advice and then choosing for yourself. I think I did that, maybe with a few bumps and lumps, but with a sense of pride that nothing else can replace.
I am very good at being opinionated, at pretending confidence in everything I do. But privately I stress and worry over what effect my actions will have on others. I think too much about making the right choices, according to others, about my life. I do not like this about myself and it is something I am working on.

I'm pretty happy, did you know? There is sadness and struggle. There is joy and fulfillment. There are adventures, and friends, and mistakes to make, and a life that is all mine but mostly His to live. I am in love with the man I am going to marry, and I am surrounded by people who love, care, and are interested in me.
And I have my pets and their little quirks and traits to amuse and enjoy.

And even though I am content, it's okay for me to feel a little sad tonight.

I bet Josee's in heaven scaring the crap out of God's kittens.

'Quel