You can find love again by Susan Lynch

You can find love again

by Susan Lynch

I posted this on the RainbowsBridge.com forum in October, 2004: I have been sick all week, and my schedule is turned around. I wasn't able to get to sleep at all last night, so I got some work done early today, and then decided I would lie down for a few hours. I thought I would watch a little TV before making an earnest effort to fall asleep, so I turned the channel to Animal Planet to watch Adoption Tales. I figured that would be a "feel good" show, and I would either drift off while watching it, or turn off the TV to go to sleep. The story was about a mother cat and her four babies whom a wonderful family was fostering. It was, in fact, a "feel good" show, with a very happy ending. What I wasn't prepared for was the closing shot of the mother cat in her new home. The camera zoomed in on her face, and (with the exception of her eye color) there was the face of my beloved Bingo looking directly at me through the camera. It has been 11 years, 3 weeks, and 1 day since 23rd September, 1993 -- the day that Bingo ate his breakfast, went downstairs to the litter box in the basement, and then fell asleep on a pile of our laundry, which had yet to be washed. There, surrounded by the smells of our family, he peacefully left for the Rainbow Bridge. When I returned from work that day and found him there, I knew my heart was broken, and it could never possibly heal. Bingo was the defining cat of my life (and my son's), and he had the biggest heart ever. He lived for my son and me, and when my husband (then boyfriend) came into our lives, Bingo accepted him with open paws. Bing had been diagnosed with cardiomyopathy five years earlier, so we knew that every day of his last five years was a gift. Every time we went to the vet, he told us what a remarkable job we had done caring for Bingo. Treatment for feline cardiomyopathy was pretty much in its infancy then, and up to that point, our vet had not had a patient who had rebounded so splendidly from that devastating diagnosis. Just one month after Bingo left, on 23rd October, we brought TJ into our lives, and we fell in love. TJ seduced us through the grief, and showed us that we could love again. In June of the following year, our sweet Buddy joined our family. Many of you know that TJ is still with us, and that Buddy joined Bingo at the Bridge on 2nd of April 2004. When I saw the face of that cat on the TV screen, I almost fell apart. She resembled Bingo so closely that I just burst into tears, and they haven't stopped in a good hour or so. I feel the same sorrow I felt when my grief for Bingo was new. I know it will pass, and I will be fine in a while. As a matter of fact, I welcome the feeling in a way, because it shows me that Bingo's place in my heart has never been filled by anyone else, and that I still love him as much as I ever did (if not even more). Both TJ and Buddy found their own places in my heart, and never infringed on Bingo's spot. Now I know that no one else will ever infringe on their places in my heart. Please know that it is possible to love again, and to do it well. Don't feel guilty for bringing a new furbaby into your home and heart. They will never take the place in your heart that is held by another. They will just snuggle into their own space. No matter how deeply you have loved, you can do it again -- and you should for your sake, and for the firries who need good homes. Honor your furkid's legacy by allowing another to make his (or her) own place within you. You'll enjoy every minute of it.

Comments would be appreciated by the author, Susan Lync