Two months ago, in March, one of my Cats became blind and deaf. It was slow, methodical; The first day it happened, we thought she was just getting old - and that was definitely part of it - because she was fine for the next day, and the next, and then she wasn't, and then she was fine again. But after that she never got better. She just kept deteriorating, and after we discovered her trying to crawl under furniture way to close to the ground to try and hide from a world she no longer saw, heard, or even knew, we decided that if she didn't start getting better with some new medications we put her on, that it was time to say goodbye. Later that night, we were awoken when we heard her fumbling against the walls, struggling to find a dark, enclosed place to just sit and shiver, we decided that we were now the ones holding on, not her. And so we said good bye. After a month of sadness, deterioration, and instability. It was slow, and we all knew it was coming, and she probably did as well. But while that dragged on the pain, it let us process it slowly, come to terms with the ordeal before it happened, much like a terminal ill patient - because that's what she was; terminal, and we all knew it, even if we didn't accept it until the very end. By the time that end came, we had already gone through the five stages of grief, and while that didn't stop any of the sadness or cause any of the horrible feelings, it made us feel better at the same time; That ordeal taught me that good and bad times are not mutually exclusively, and can co-exist. Just yesterday, another one of my cats died; This was from a blot-clot brought on by a heart failure. His breed, a forest cat, was known to suffer from cardiac conditions much more often than regular felines due to their size in relation to their habitat, exercise, and eating patterns. The first cat was old, 12 or 13 years, and had an entire life behind her. This second cat was only 5, perhaps going on 6; We didn't know his exact age because he was rescued from an abusive family when he was only a kitten, and after travelling between multiple homes, we ended up being the best fit for him. He was incredibly healthy, and had just seen the vet 2 weeks prior, who said he was the healthiest cat he'd seen all day; He played, jumped, climbed, ran around, slept well, had no problems eating or the opposite, and was very friendly to us, but he never forgot his initial experience with his first family. Ever since the first day we got him, he had been deathly afraid of other people, and while he trusted us more than anyone else prior, abuse isn't something that just goes away, for anyone, no matter how good life is in the moment; Another example of good and bad feelings co-existing, but this time it was in life, not in death. So his death was sudden, and happened when all of us were away; We arrived back home and the shock hit us before anything else. Then came anger, yelling, many mentions of the word "unfair". Eventually this was replaced by sadness, and tears, which still haven't gone away as I write this, but also a cold emptiness has come into a place that I used to know only warmth and comfort in. I haven't yet completely accepted these events, but I know I will, and that has helped me realize something else; Much like the abuse that my kitty suffered and much like all the terrible feelings I have right now, the good memories and support that he gave us will never quite go away either. And these two realizations, while I have and still am processing them both separately and together, have left me with an undeniable conclusion that - when it truly comes down to it, despite the tragedies I've needed to undergo to reach it - I am happy to have discovered: Nothing in this life is completely temporary, good or bad; The effects that events, experiences, and peoples have on us, while perhaps they may diminish with time and absence, never truly go away entirely. And life is the compilation of these effects, and that is what makes it beautiful.