My angel is gone

[Clues_Of_Blue]

Those of you who know me know that my two little birds and my partner are my world. My partner had a heart and lung transplant two years ago. His body is now rejecting those lungs and they have thrown every treatment at it they can, to no avail. His health is in steady decline, the lungs severely damaged. In all likelihood he will need another transplant. There is no guarantee of finding a suitable donor in time. We don't know how this will play out, how long he has left. That is cause enough for grief.

Throughout the many hospital stays this year, there have been a few scares and vet trips for our first-born little bird, Sir Pecks (not his real name). It took so long for them to even identify why he was unwell. His liver had become very enlarged and was causing him great discomfort. He was so sleepy all the time, was frantic about eating, he barely sang or preened any more. He was struggling to breathe. Our sweet, happy little bird, our child, who loved to sing at the top of his lungs right in our ears, who loved to play and bathe and pinch bits of our breakfast, is now gone. We feel so empty and lost and heartbroken to be without him. That in no way diminishes our love for his brother, of course, but our grief is so huge. It's hard to face each day, knowing he won't be there, screaming at us for attention and getting into everything. I miss him so much, and I am scared for my partner. I feel like my family is crumbling and I have no power to do anything about it. How do you live with grief like this?

[Clues_Of_Blue]

Hey EM,

Thank you. It's a privilege to have such a compassionate friend beside me.

We are doing everything we reasonably can to get through the uncertainty and trials upon us at the moment. It's exhausting and confusing and hard. But we endure, as we always have.

Now the Carer's Payment has come through I am less inclined to worry about the super (though they did actually answer my e-mail, promptly and with some sensitivity, to their credit). The payment isn't much below my smallish part time income anyway, it's more than I expected. I can also say there is something to be said for my inclination to keep our costs down as much as possible as a matter of course, I doubt most people could have held up so well in the situation we have been in.

Inherited knowledge or otherwise, it's still useful. I know all about parents not sharing useful knowledge, though the primary useful thing I inherited from them both was an attitude of seeking knowledge for myself if I wanted it. It has served me well.

I mentioned in the self care thread about listening to music with LM, today. What I left out belonged here. That time, holding him on the couch and hearing our sweet Mr Feisty singing along, watching his lovely long tail twitch as he sang... In times gone by that moment would have been accompanied by our beloved Sir Pecks sitting on my shoulder or LM's, singing his dear little heart out at the top of his lungs, tweeting so high and so loud in our ears they would be ringing. Sir Pecks' songs were always so vibrant, his face always so happy when he sang. Got hit real hard with the Grief Hammer thinking on how much he loves to sing. Our beautiful, perfect boy. We miss him so much.

Blue.

[Clues_Of_Blue]

We released Sir Pecks' ashes in the forest, today. For want of a better solution, we buried the little canister they came in under a tree in our back yard. You can't just throw away something like that. I believe it was the right thing to do, to free him in the forest, but it was hard. I couldn't believe just how little mass there was to that ash, I know he was small, but it hurt seeing him reduced to so little. His presence was never small, no matter the size of his body. I miss our angel so much.

Tomorrow we may know whether LM's surgery will go ahead (assuming a donor is found in time). I don't know how to feel, whatever lies ahead will be extremely hard in very different ways. We need answers, direction, but the way hope and hopelessness have been changing places all these months, I am not without trepidation about what wild swing of emotions we will be hit with next. Worse, what if we get no definitive answer at all? I'm so tired.

[ecomama]

Dear Blue, LM and Mr Fiesty, how beautiful this time is that you have together. Sitting listening to music and Mr Fiesty singing along. 

The loss of Sir Pecks, the hole he has left in your lives, is tangible. 

Yes it's almost undignified that such a HUGE part of your life was reduced to such a small amount of ashes. 
Your beautiful, perfect boy is in the forest now. How sad those moments must have been for you and LM doing this. Then burying the capsule his ashes came in under your tree in your back yard. 

I can see how no definitive answer for LMs surgery would be constantly wearing on you both. I need to check your other thread to see what happened at the next appointment. I want to know, but sometimes it feels better to put one's head in the sand for a moment to catch breath. No respite for you all. 
It's such a sad situation. 

Love EMxxxx

[Clues_Of_Blue]

Hey EM,

You're right, that time with my perfect family was beautiful. As deep as my sadness is that he is not physically there, it was no less beautiful for my sorrow for Sir Pecks. I could almost hear his song, his presence was so near. Yes, the hole in our lives without him is extraordinary. That dear little bird filled our lives with mess and chaos and so much love. He still does. None of that is forgotten.

Undignified, yes. That's a good word for it. I felt he was diminished in a greater than physical way. Our sweet, perfect boy. He is free now. We aren't unhealthily attached to a little canister. It hurts but I also feel lighter in a way, like I can love him more freely, if that makes sense. He isn't confined to one little space, to us he is flying as he will, and safe and happy. It's better for all of us. We have pictures to get printed, so we can kiss him good night like we want to. Pictures of times when he was well and happy, with us as a family.

No definitive answer is the answer we got. It seemed they were assessing his readiness to go ahead more than anything though, they did not suggest it was not surgically viable. It felt like he was on trial in that appointment, it really stung, I felt so protective of him. It didn't help much that the doctor reminded me so much of an old boss of mine for whom I hold considerable contempt and animosity, that was a rude surprise. Ultimately though, she seemed more positive than negative about going ahead. She wanted to see how he held to the commitments involved, for us to continue with the work-up, and wants to speak to us again in a month. Mostly we're in a space of planning for it to go ahead. That is a whole other can of worms, so much work, so much mental struggle with everything that may be ahead of us. Some of the things involved are crapping all over my boundaries and there's no getting around it if I want him and Mr Feisty to remain safe. It is better than losing him of course, but extremely hard for me.

Blue.

[ecomama]

Dear Blue, I got that feeling too, that Sir Pecks was flying freely now. His spirit more accessible to you anywhere you look. I felt that but couldn't put those words out there, wasn't sure if you were there yet.
Burying the canister near you feels like a grounding of that part of the sad process. 

Yes Sir Pecks WAS that larger than life being, dominating your home lol, bossing you all around, filling the space with his unique songs and chatter. Yep sure the mess too. We can even miss the extra mess they left everywhere. 
He could not have been loved any more than he was by 2 of the most loving parents on earth for him. He was blessed as you were too. 

A perfect fit. 

Okay. So you now have a marathon of duties ahead. 
There are no boundaries now, your needs cannot be met for this duration. 
It's what happens in constant "states of emergency", everything else drops away immediately as we focus 100% on what has to be done. 

All we can do is DO these things with little reflection atm. Push forward. 

I'm sorry for the immense pressures on you 24/7 but at the same time I'm SO GRATEFUL there is hope!! 

Sending you love and energy for this marathon.
Love EMxxxx

[Clues_Of_Blue]

Hey EM,

Sir Pecks is part of everything, he always was. LM and I did feel that his spirit was constrained by the canister, though, for both him and for us. Unhealthy attachment and all that. I have many of his feathers that I collected over the years, I can still touch him sometimes, feel how soft he is in something he left behind when he was whole and healthy. Maybe also unhealthy attachment, I dunno, but I'm running with it.

Sir Pecks sure did make demands and lots of noise and mess. Yeah, even miss the mess. Except not so much because I'm still finding little deposits around the house. I'll probably be finding surprise poops in out of the way places for years...

There could be no greater blessing for us than our two sweet birds. I only hope we have made them as happy as they make us. There is no shortage of love for either of them.

You said "There are no boundaries now, your needs cannot be met for this duration." I am going to disagree with this. As an observation, this highlights what needs to change. If it is a suggested way forward, I'm afraid it's getting a hard no from me. Putting aside certain needs for very short periods during immediate emergencies may happen. What lies ahead is many months of dire but non-emergency preparation and management. Putting my needs and boundaries aside on that level, especially for that amount of time, would be dangerously irresponsible; I'd even classify it as a form of SH to be that self-sacrificing. If I push myself beyond capacity for months, I can expect either mental breakdown or physical illness if not both, either of which would obviously be bad for me, but would further be catastrophic for LM. My boundaries and needs must be met as much as reasonably possible in this situation for us both to survive and come out the other side thriving instead of broken, both as individuals and as a couple.

There certainly are immense pressures. A few days to breathe here and there in between spikes of nigh unbearable difficulty. The hope of transplant and of a future together makes it worthwhile. The bond we have with each other and with our birds gets us through each day whether or not our hopes are realised.

Kind thoughts,

Blue.

[Clues_Of_Blue]

It was Sir Pecks' hatchday yesterday. Our angel would have been ten years old. Almost ten years we shared our lives with that perfect little bird. He filled our world with beauty and light and love. He still does. We celebrated his day together, quietly, at home with Mr Feisty. We ate blueberries in his honour (one of his favourite treats). Mr Feisty is offended by blueberries, so he had a different treat.

Something beautiful happened yesterday, too, that couldn't have been more perfect. There have been a pair of birds the same species as Sir Pecks (forgive me not naming species, that could identify me) frequenting our back yard in the last couple of weeks. We had wondered if they were a breeding pair. Yesterday we saw for the first time ever in our yard a sweet little fledgeling being fed by one of those adults.

I still remember too clearly his last days, how ill he was, and my heart breaks at the thought of it. On the flip side, I am so grateful to have been Sir Pecks' mum, to have shared his life with him and to have this wealth of beautiful memories. I am grateful to have LM and Mr Feisty to share my life now, and to share in my love for and memory of Sir Pecks. I'm grateful baby birds of his kind are still hatching and living happily with their parents in our garden, that LM and I get to see them playing and thriving. These thoughts go a long way to easing the pain of loss.