Very early Tuesday

 I'm falling asleep OK.  Usually don't wake up in the middle of the night.  But the dreams are still bad.  

I had one about a nuclear disaster last night, I was trying to get people out.  Nuclear is a pretty good analogy for what happened in my life.  A lot of fallout.  

I got up (it was about to rain, anyway, which would have kept me up, and I try not to lie in bed and brood), fed the cats some wet food.  About to feed them some dry in addition.  Biscuit likes to lap up the extra gravy and it's a turkey flavor so not likely to give him crystals.  He is OK with some every couple weeks.  

But they will have dry for snacking when I'm gone.  They all like the dry; Biscuit is healthy so it works.  I think the real secret: don't feed a male cat any sort of food with fish in it.  It's just not good for them.  All 3 of my FLUTD cats had eaten fishy dry food (Biscuit had wet salmon food in addition) before they got sick.  They sure like that turkey wet food.  Friskies turkey pate with extra gravy.  They used to have a turkey extra gravy with shreds/chunks which was easier to feed but the cats are not complaining.  Baby Girl is very cute and "buries" her food when she is done eating.  

So I feel like a good Mom.  Ron would not want the cats to suffer because I am mourning.  They have started sleeping with me again, they love his blanket which I have on my bed.  It is still pretty cool at night (50's) so I can use it.  Hopefully I won't "need" the blanket by summer time.  

It's just hard I miss him a lot.  I second guess things I did and thoughts I had about him.  I don't blame him for going when he did he was in a lot of pain.  I wish they had found a simple cause of death.  But I'm glad whatever got him was quick and peaceful.  

And it wasn't me when my aunt asked one of the morgue workers to see Ron's body they said "You can't, but he looks very peaceful".  I don't know why they let me sit next to him, hold his dead hand (not a memory I relish), cover him with a blanket, and put a pillow under his head but she couldn't walk in and look at him.  Maybe because I was already on the scene.  

But he's dead and that was very obvious to me looking at him.  Even the first time.  I did what I could regardless but he had been gone for a while.  I feel better knowing where he is.  Both in heaven and the crematory.  

God took Ron for a lot of reasons.  He was starting to need more and more care.  I felt less and less comfortable about leaving him; pretty soon he would need a full time helper or a placement.  I have also been completely guilty of idolatry putting Ron above God on many occasions.  God doesn't like that.  But the primary reason he was in a lot of pain and it was his time to go.  

I still would have married him only knowing he would make it to 66.  I am glad we did something special for his birthday and got delicious food delivered.  I would have kissed him again on his head, gotten another hug, even though hugs were hard for him.  He couldn't really hug with his bad arm for 18 years.  But we managed and he knew I loved him.  

That's it for now.