Goodbye to Tillybell

This is a rather emotionally heavy post. But it's worth writing, because it helps to process, and why not share the shadows of my heart with you all? What are you going to do? Not read it? Well, that's not much of a consequence. So, here we go.

On December 25 at 8:30 am, that is to say Christmas morning, Tilly passed and moved on.

I was making breakfast, bacon and fried French toast, and Tilly jumped off the blue accent chair to the floor, stumbled, and proceeded to exit. Before this, I sat next to her on the couch, saw that she had soiled herself and moved her to the accent chair to clean up the mess on the couch. There I left her for about an hour before she jumped down. I thought maybe she wanted some food, but no. She just wanted to exit on the fluffy rug in my living room.

Not wanting to burn my food and cause a fire, I finished my cooking, somehow ate my food while crying at the same time. I don't know how I did that. Then got a small towel from the closet, laid her body on the towel and found a box to temporarily store her body.

It is cold outside, freezing at night especially, so I laid her in the box with the towel and a piece of amazonite and rose quartz. I loosely sealed the box and set the box outside. There were two yellow mums blooming, so I plucked them and laid them on the box.

I got my dry bag for my kayak out of the closet, which is insulated and large enough to contain the entire box and set it by the kitchen island for the next day. I'm supposed to work, but obviously I have more important things to attend to now. I decided to tell my boss that I would be out the following morning and not sour anyone's Christmas with my news. Not yet.

The day before, Christmas Eve, I went for a walk. While on the walk, I encountered 2 magical things.

First thing is I saw 'Yanna in a car. It was unquestionably her. Actually her, not a look alike.

It's funny, because lately when I'm about to take a walk, I automatically just mention where I'm going and what direction I'm going in. I don't ever expect anything, but given the strange occurrences lately when I do this (the same Jeep turning around in circles for example), I decided to continue the practice. Just to see what happens.

So, I told her what street I was going down and roughly where I was going to stop and decide if I'd continue on and make the walk longer. Right as I reach the stopping point--maybe 200 yards short--there's a blue Tesla with 'Yanna in it. I smiled at her as she drove by. And dost my eyes deceive me? I witness a ghost of a smile at the corners of her mouth, but our eyes do not meet. I know why. If they do, we will not be able to stop ourselves from running to one another. So, she looks away.

I see her just as I'm talking to her about closing the bedroom door at night so I can sleep without a dying cat next to my head. When I say I have limits to how much I'm willing to allow in a hospice situation. Anyway, seeing her was very magical. What a gift. She is beautiful beyond measure. I feel my Solstice-Christmas has been made. I need no further gifts from anyone.

On my way back, I encounter two black vultures. This is the second magical thing. A squirrel has just been hit by a car, and the vultures are wanting some lunch. One of them is pulling it further into the road, thinking it'll be safe. I say out loud, gesturing to the sidewalk, "No, you'll want to pull it that way. It's safer." The vulture appears to hear me, and drags the squirrel to the sidewalk. Of course, now they are in my path. So I say, "Excuse me, I'm just passing through a moment."

They scatter, but don't fly away. Mostly, they awkwardly hop at my feet and then look at me. I've never had a large bird be unafraid of me like this. But these are not worried. If I wanted to, I could bend down and pick them up. They know I don't want to bother them. Instead, they look at me, and I wish them a happy luncheon.

Did you know vultures are very gentle, sensitive birds? Their eyes are so soft and gentle. They look at you, and it's not harshness like a hawk. It's a gentle warmness. I did not expect that.

Anyway, the day before Tilly dies, I see vultures, the harbingers of death and rebirth. Tilly is the last remnant of the previous life. She was not my cat. She was my ex-husband's cat. But I brought her with me here to give her a proper environment for a retirement. Well, I suppose, mission accomplished. She perished not in a room all alone, but in a warm living room on a fluffy carpet with her friend Eddie present and me making yummy-smelling food while I'm feeling over the moon about the day before.

​Much better than the spare bedroom at the old house. And I suppose if you want a time to go vibrationally, pick the highest level to do it. Just like Jack choosing to have a final dog day at the beach, splashing in the waves like a puppy.

The rest of the day was obviously not going to be as happy and blissful. And it wasn't. I wasn't going to kid myself. I went to my father's house for dinner, and told him what happened about Tilly dying. Then it's like he kind of forgot what I said while I was there, though I did enjoy the food and watching the most recent Mission Impossible movie. My brother barely talked to me all day. Did not wish me a merry anything.

I admit that by evening, while I was doing my best to be grateful for what I did experience that day, I felt a little resentful about this "forgetting" shit I just said that impacted me. Or acting like I don't exist. Resentment like that is dangerous. It wants to find things to latch on to. It tried to latch onto 'Yanna, and I had to order my ego to stand down. I made it go get dissolved in a cup of tea instead. Then it just turned into sadness. Well, better than bitterness and resentment.

Sometimes I feel invisible. Like I'm some kind of shimmer in everyone's reality and if they look right at me, they see me. But the moment I drift into their periphery, it's like I'm gone again. It happens the worst in groups of people. I'm in the group of people, we're all talking, and then gradually it's like I get edged out. And then I vanish. And then I get lonely, bored, and want to leave but don't want to be impolite. While everyone else goes the second I get up or move, "Kyrie, why do you want to leave? Aren't you having fun?"

Hmm. I see I'm still feeling rather resentful. Or just mopey. Well, that's fair. One of my cats just died and I just spent 3 weeks providing a hospice environment to said cat. That's stressful enough, isn't it? I'd say so.

So, tomorrow I go to bury my cat. I have the general location picked out, and the particular terrain I'm looking for. I know roughly which direction to walk in. But I do not know exactly where it is in terms of an actual map. Just the general area. My soul will help point me to the right spot where there's enough soil that is neither hard nor too shallow with rocks and roots. If I have to build a cairn, I will.

As for right now, I'm finishing writing this while all the sheets and bedding tumble in the dryer. I wanted to wash them all. I could smell death on them. I can smell death energy everywhere. It will take a few days to cleanse the air in here, even with leaving the windows open, saging, all that.

I thank you for your time. Adiamas.

--Kyriel