Happy Holidays 2025, Part I: The Countdown

Days until Christmas: 20

Days until my birthday: 15

November has ended, it is December, snow is on the ground, and the Christmas music is pumping on multiple radio stations around town. We have officially entered the Holiday Season™ of 2025. We're less than three weeks away from Christmas now and...it's taking a lot for me to feel in the spirit again this year.

Don't get me wrong, I want to feel in the spirit. But some years it's really difficult. This year we have the stress of Pete coming to his natural end and not yet knowing how or when that is going to take place. Death came quickly for Maggie and Sadie in years past -- they were fine until they were not. It is coming much more slowly and deliberately for our dear Peter, with crises, sick scares, and worries along the way. We know what we're giving him now is simply palliative care, hospice care for cats, but he really could go at any time. As I've mentioned here before, we're ready for it but we'll never be really ready for it.

"He's holding out until Christmas," one of my colleagues at work said.

"If he croaks on Christmas I will be very angry," I replied. 

Our vet told us the last time we spoke with him about Pete that he sees more elderly pets, especially those with chronic conditions, go down in the winter and around the holidays than at any other time of the year. The weather changes really mess with them far more than we know or can outwardly see, and if they're already on the struggle bus, well...

Sadie started having her seizures on New Year's Eve and was gone on January 2. I knew she was in decline but she told us very clearly that it was her time.

Maggie went into decline around the holidays but was more polite, and held out until January 19th. I did not expect her life to end that day, so it was traumatic for me.

I don't think there's any reality in which Pete makes it to either of those dates. Yet, it's hard to plan for the death of a cat when he seems to be mostly okay the vast majority of the time. It's very clear to see that he's moving around far more stiffly when it's really cold outside, and he still has diarrhea every day despite being on medication that's supposed to stop it for well over a week now, yet...otherwise he seems okay. He's still using the pan normally, he's still eating and drinking normally, and he seems to be able to get around the house and up and down the stairs just fine, though it is admittedly a little harder for him than it used to be. But, he doesn't seem to be in any cognitive decline, he is still a very warm boy (Maggie, and especially Sadie, were very cold all the time before they died, like they couldn't keep in their body heat), and he still loves attention and loves cuddling up and sleeping with Empress and the Double Trouble boys. So...I don't know. I tend to want to focus more on the positives than the negatives with Pete, probably because he was my first cat and I don't want to see him go -- while logically and coldly knowing that I will have to, and when it's his time, we'll make the call and pull the proverbial plug. When that happens I will likely have as little emotion about it as possible -- but in essence it means I'm doing as much grieving for him as I can while he's still alive. I'm making sure he is loved and knows it, I'm making sure we stay on track with his medications and fluids as long as we have them, and both of us are very intentional with our time spent with him. 

It's hard to write about this and at the same time, it's not. Pete has had a wonderful life. He's never wanted for food or shelter or comfort, and he has never wanted for love, companionship, or care. He has been blessed to have us as parents, and for almost three years now he has had the company of multiple new kittens to grandfather over, snuggle, and love. He has loved every one of the next generation of cats we've brought into this house and has been wonderful with them when, in the beginning when we first got Hank, I had been very nervous about introducing another male cat into the house with the senior citizens. I don't want to lose Pete; I wish I could have him around forever, and I am sure the other cats do too. But, the grim reality is that we have probably two or three weeks left with him at best, and as I told Daisy, I'm not even sure it'll be that long. It could be today or tomorrow. Again, the girls went down quickly. And then they were gone and it was done.

There's a part of me that actually wants it to be today or tomorrow when he tells us it's his time, and as strange as it sounds, that's the selfish part of me speaking. Frankly, I don't want Pete's death to ruin my birthday or Christmas. I look forward to those days more than any other days of the year -- we make grand plans around them, we take off work for them, we make them into events. They are very much days I do not want to be overshadowed by Pete's life ending. Similarly, I don't want him to take a hard turn and then suffer in silence until he can no longer hide the agony. I don't want to see him like that. Sick is one thing -- actively dying or having seizures or being suddenly unable to walk, make it to the pan, or even know who or where he is quite another, and would be terrifying and traumatizing. Hasn't the old man suffered enough already? Daisy and I have had discussions about where the proverbial line is -- where we cross the line of the loss of quality of life vs. being selfish and doing everything we can to keep him alive because we don't want to lose him. Like, where do we draw that line? Our vet told us, over a month ago now, that he would support making the call then, because it would just be a decline from that point. 

I watched Sadie, after her seizures, be so scared and wide-eyed and not know what was going on or what was happening to her. In her last photo, I am holding her in the vet's office, and her eyes are wide with those emotions even though she's in my arms and knows she is safe and loved there. 

I don't want Pete to have to go through that. I don't want any of our cats to have to go through that. So, it's very difficult, and it's stressful waiting for those signs, for that other shoe to drop and definitively know that it's time. Neither of us like being on Deathwatch for Pete. I know for me, it's slowly eating away at my ability to relax, to sleep well, to concentrate on a lot of things.

All of the cards have been mailed, and I am sure at this point most people who were sent them (barring, say, the family in Canada) have gotten them. That means that our holiday greetings for all of these folks remain valid since Pete is still alive and I said so on the card. But I already know the back of next year's card is going to be like "rest well, Pete" with a photo of him.

As I mentioned before, we've done a set of Christmas photos already with the cats, and I'd like to do more over the course of the next few weeks. I may have mentioned it here, but if Pete does pass before that happens, I made the very dark joke that his final Christmas photos will be of his urn with the Santa hat and scarf on it.

I'm not kidding about that -- if he dies before Christmas and we get the ashes back before Christmas, I am 100% doing that. Honestly I'll likely do it next year anyway just so that he can be included. 

But that's all just dark humor. I really don't think he's making it to Christmas. I will be shocked. So, I want us to get more photos of him this weekend. It's very important to me. We don't know how much time he has left and I want him to look cute and festive while we have him.

There are, of course, a lot of things we have to do to get ready for the holidays. Pete is just one of many. While I have the cards done and while both of us can probably say we're done shopping for one another, Daisy and I still have to be able to figure out something for her parents and I don't yet want to be completely done for Daisy. I'm on the lookout for little things here and there I can get her. I haven't gotten anything else yet, but if there's something I know she wants or needs, I'll likely quickly snap it up. Have I already crossed my budget for her? Yes, but only by about $10. Do I really care about that if there's something I know she wants or needs? Not in the least. 

We've been working to finalize the plans for the actual holidays. The plan for my birthday remains the same as mentioned previously -- go do some light Christmas shopping, come back up to the parents' and have dinner, come home. Mama mentioned that Dad spent days looking for the perfect birthday present for me, which leaves me slightly nervous. I do not need, nor do I ever expect, Daisy's parents to do anything for me present-wise; the fact that they love me and always do a special birthday meal for me is far more than enough. To a certain extent I also feel guilty about that, because I know the work involved and I know that it's not easy to spend several hours cooking. I know this because I don't really like to do it. My mother wanted me to be a chef -- I countered with how I would rather be a food critic; I wanted to be the eater, not the cooker. I never had any desire whatsoever to cook anything when I don't have to (and still don't). 

Daisy is also planning to make me a large, vegan, Little Debbie "Christmas Tree Cake" for my birthday. She did it once a year or two ago and it was great, but I told her it's okay, as much as I loved it, she doesn't have to do it again -- that me asking for it was mostly just kidding.

"Yes, I do," she said, "and no, it wasn't."

So, I guess I'm getting the cake again. 

I also have to pick a day where I can pack up my parents' box, take it to the post office, and mail it to them with enough time for them to get it before Christmas. Based on the way the days fall, that's likely going to be next weekend -- if we wait until my birthday, I almost guarantee it won't get there before Christmas. It takes a few extra days, usually, to get stuff to the island. It is what it is. 

I also have to meter out time to wrap presents and try to rest and decompress a bit. As we go closer to the holidays, work either ramps up to stupid levels or it quickly peters out and sitting there for ten hours a night is akin to watching paint dry. This is part of why I took the 23rd off and am coasting into the holidays after the night of the 22nd. I don't want to be working right up until the day before and then have to turn around and rush everything to be ready for Christmas. At least I get my full normal weekend after Christmas to center myself before I go back to work.

Mama mentioned that it's likely that Daisy's sister and family from Denver won't even be in town on the actual Christmas Day, as they likely won't want to lug all the presents from Denver to Omaha and back. If that's the case, then it will be again just the four of us for Christmas Day and a more quiet, intimate family gathering. Mama has also expressed that she does want us to go to the Christmas Eve church service this year -- as long as she feels good enough to do so and weather permits it. We haven't been able to go in several years at this point; I honestly can't remember the last year we all did it. It may have been pre-pandemic, even. I'm all for it; it's the one event per year that I actually dress up for, that we take photos for, that makes me feel like the luckiest man in the world -- I married into this wonderful family and I get to spend the holidays with them. Religious overtones and churches be damned, psychologically I need that feeling of love and inclusivity. It's so hard to come by in today's world.