I just realized something a few days ago - I didn't just lose a wife; I lost a family

Ginny couldn't have children due to medical reasons. She didn't really want one, anyway, and that's not why I fell in love with her in the first place. But we managed to raise our own family, anyway. At one point, we shared our humble home with two cats, three parakeets, and a cockatiel. Most of them were rescues.

Now they're all gone, and I've been left behind by the rest of my family.

I don't know why it took me so long to articulate this in my own mind. Each death of a furbaby or "winged potato" affected me differently, but only now can I look at their deaths as something collective instead of individual occurrences. It doesn't make the loneliness any easier, but it does help to put a new perspective on things.

All of these critters greeted the day with us, capered with us, shared our joys and sorrows, welcomed us home from another bout with the daily grind. I still deal with guilt feelings that I couldn't prolong their lives at times, but maybe it's just that I'm having trouble letting go. That's the hardest part of all.

Perhaps I could start a new family of my own, take in a little rescue kitty from the SPCA or maybe right off the street (we've done this before), but my financial situation really needs to improve before I can feel comfortable enough to do this. It's at least a goal I can set for myself.