On the morning of April 15, 2014, I had to put my beloved Roscoe down. He was 14 years old and really struggling with getting up and going down. It was a kindness to him but oh so hard on me.
Then, that evening, my mom died after suffering a very short illness that we really thought she would recover from. She was 91 years old and just did not have the strength anymore to win the battle with another illness.
My grief is immeasurable and there are times when I think I just can't handle it.
Waking up each morning and realizing they are both gone is so hard. I know things will get better but that is no consolation right now.
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