My sweet Jasmine,

I still am in a bit of shock that you're gone. My mind knows it, but my heart is still processing it. Just two weeks ago everything seemed fine and normal. And then quickly you became sick. You were such a part of our lives these 14 years. You brought such love and comfort to Mack, especially, during hard times and the rough stuff that a teenager has to go through. For me, you were a resource of comfort and peace--when I would have a rough day at work, I could go into Mack's room where you would be in your usual spot--her bed--and I would get down on my knees and cuddle up with you while you were sleeping peacefully. Or, if you were awake, you would see me and greet me with your sweet little short meows to say 'hey, what's up Dad!'

I miss you playing with Ken, even though I know you couldn't stand him. He would try to play with you to get a reaction and you would swipe and hiss at him, and he would bark in retaliation, but I secretly think he loved the abuse. He was notably sad last week when you got sick. And because you were not in your usual state of mind, you rubbed up against him (a dog, yes you did haha!) and he didn't know what to think. It was sweet at the same time.

I'm going to miss hearing the sudden spontaneous gallops from upstairs over absolutely nothing. Or hearing you jump down from your food and water counter when I'm downstairs working.

It's so hard to imagine you not being here now. We've lived in three houses since you came into our lives as a small kitten. Everywhere we have lived you have been in our lives equally. The house just seems so empty. Yes, all four of us are still here and Ken is still here. But it seems so empty. There is a huge gaping hole in my heart now and I don't know if it will ever go away. They say in time it will get smaller, but right now I'm not sure it will. And part of me doesn't want it to, not because I want to wallow around in misery, but because I'm afraid I'll forget you, or maybe forget some things about you. I don't want that to happen. Each morning these past three days when the sun comes up, I feel guilty. Guilty that time is continuing with you. I feel like we left you behind and all alone. We were all there with you when you passed on, with Mack holding you close to her heart. These images will haunt me forever. I keep seeing the life just leave your paws and your body. I know you were in great pain and not very aware of what was going on, but you were still breathing, you were still with us. I don't want to let you go. Just one more time, I keep saying. Hold you and love you one more time. But I know it wouldn't be enough. Just like I know there is nothing we could have done to save you. Money was not an issue, I would have paid for it all, but we knew based on your condition, none of it could have saved you. But I still feel like we just left you. I am so sorry for that. I wish there was some way you could tell me that it didn't feel that way to you.

Fourteen years of memories is a lot to unpack. I keep remembering things I had forgotten about. You used to love to spend 97% of your time upstairs, so these past few days I have been spending 97% of my time downstairs, other than to go upstairs to sleep, just because everything remind me of you. We've been keeping busy this weekend, staying out of the house and doing things as a family. Coming home to the house without you in it is always something I dread. You should be here. I feel you all around. But you're not. I don't know when I can accept that or be ok with that. It is my prayer and hope I will see you on the other side. And I also hope that maybe months or a year from now I can come back here and write another letter to you.

Missing you,

Dad