And just like that, another year has come and gone. 2022 was an incredibly difficult year for me, starting with a massive rupture that changed everything about my life. It ended dramatically too: I started December in the ER, spent the solstice holiday weekend at the emergency vet because one of my cats at a bar of soap, and ended the month putting Munin to rest, my companion of 15 years. If you’ve been part of our community for a while, you know that Munin was battling cancer for the last three years. We did everything we could, including administering chemo at home every other day for over a year. Finally, in the last week of December, it was time to say good-bye.
It’s hard to talk about the grief of losing a pet. For those who haven’t experienced a deep bond with a pet, it seems trivial. For some of us, a pet is part of the family, a daily companion and fur baby. Munin came home with us at 8 weeks old, and was a sweet, funny, affectionate, and charming companion until the very end. His sweetness was truly one of a kind, and he’s left a huge hole in my heart and my home. His sweet little face, adorable little fangs, his little chirp, and the cutest white patch on his chest.
My grief is heavy, tangible, always lurking right behind my shoulder, and sometimes washing over me completely. I know one day it will be less heavy, and eventually it will be a quieter companion, whispering rather than taking over. But in the meantime? I am going to knit. This cardigan is taking me a while to work through, so Munin had several chances to nap on my knitting and my project bag before we said goodbye. I know there’s at least a couple of his little black furs knitted into the fabric, and I will always treasure that.
It seems silly to say that knitting can get us through the hard times, but for me, knitting is a life line. When I am overwhelmed, knitting allows me to slow down and gather myself. Since my grief is so present right now, I’m knitting to keep it company. With each stitch, I allow myself to acknowledge this new companion, to sit with it and say, I see you. I feel you. And with each stitch, I hope the hole in my heart gets a little smaller.
A special thank you to everyone who donated to Munin’s healthcare fund over the last three years. With your help, we were able to give him the best possible care. If you are interested in contributing to his end of life costs, please make a donation here.