It is one of those moments in life that haunts your inner soul. Sadly it is moments we can’t avoid. Walking around a living nightmare doing everything I can to wake myself up.
My every cell quakes in terror and horror and every second of the accident keeps replaying over and over and over again.
How does a mother tell her little girl that there was an accident, her kitten has died and it is all my fault.
{Some lessons are hard to learn and even harder to teach.}
It took weeks for me to be able to face it again. I asked Dylan to keep her until I was ready to bury her properly. He wouldn’t tell me where she was, but I knew. The day was warm and the ground softer. I started digging up a small part of our yard, under a baby pine tree. With time that tree would grow and our pain would fade.
She placed white rocks around her grave and painted a cross with her name and dates of life. It was a short time that Annabelle was a part of our family and they way she died made our loss more difficult. I will always remember her little body huddled up behind the stair just waiting for Addi to wake up and run to the bathroom to go potty. That was her cue to chase her, bite her ankles and have her screaming for help on top of the toliet.
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