Highlight for angst:
So yesterday there was a hit and run across the street. A lady came to our door and told my older bro who answered that a gray and white cat was hit, and that she took him to the vet (kind woman). We looked at first, and assumed it wouldn't be ours since BG is more of a brown-ish gray, though for some reason I think I always knew it might've been.
After a while or so, my bro was kind enough to offer to walk down to the vet (none of us have drivers licenses) to.. "confirm", I guess.
My bro called later and confirmed. BG didn't make it.
I don't think I've ever cried because of raw emotions in years. I usually cry for petty reasons, like a sad movie or book, or when something doesn't go right and I'm completely frustrated. To find out BG was gone was a painfully real shock.
When D told me, I was really trying to keep the shaking out of my voice, but I didn't succeed in the slightest. I feel awful now that I broke down over the phone when my bro was the one who saw the body, who was kind enough to offer again to walk to his work place where dad's girlfriend also works (for her car), so that they could bring BG home to bury.
I cried for a while in my room, alone. Again, I feel awful for not having told my younger brother J right away. When I did, he almost seemed angry. He jumped up right away and I swear, if he didn't see me crying he would have started cursing out loud. Though he might've already known, since I was crying quite loud and our rooms are closest.
I then went to our shed and was lucky to find a shovel. Who knew it could be so hard to find a nice place to bury a loved one? I did manage to find it, though. It's right near our back fence, but it gets a lot of sun, which is what I wanted for him. It's a really nice, bright spot.
D and T arrived, and D was carrying a box which was quite painful to look at. D was kind enough to place him on the other side of our yard and came over to help me dig, since I wasn't really strong enough to make a deep hole.
T kept talking and I wanted her to shut up because it just hurt more, and J came out as well but he was unusually quiet. I knew D and I were already crying, and T was always one to cry for our dead cats, but I was most shocked to find tears in my little brother's eyes too. I didn't think he was as close to BG as D and I were.
And then we were burying him.
Originally I wanted to hold BG, but when D opened the box I didn't have the heart to. Once we'd filled the hole, I went to find a rock with a semi-heart shape. We then all spent a few moments picking some daisies and littering his grave with it. We actually laughed at the strangeness of it, even if they were watery.
It all felt too fast, and I just really wanted to cheer up. T left with J, and D and I were home alone. I thought of what Ron offered in the Prisoner of Azkaban, where Hagrid was upset about the appeal for Buckbeak. He had offered to make Hagrid a cup of tea, because it was something his mother did when he was upset. That seemed like a brilliant idea, so I made D and I tea, and we then went to my room with our laptops and watched Deathly Hallows Part 1 on my computer. It feels so good to laugh now.
I probably won't get over being upset every time I think of BG for a while, but the tears have stopped for now, and I'm still able to smile.