Normally I would try to come with a more upbeat title or at least a clever one.
But my brain just isn’t there right now.
There’s no way around it. No sugarcoat sweet enough.
It doesn’t matter if it’s expected and natural.
Endings just plain suck.
Ms. Kitty, of S**t Where You Eat Fame, is having issues again. Only these aren’t behavioral. These are signs that she is every one of her 17 years. We had an emergency vet appointment yesterday and now we’re waiting to find out how close the end is. No matter what answers we receive, they won’t be the right ones.
And it’s killing me.
Rationally, I’m fine. She’s an old cat. She’s lived a full and happy life, with the best of them being these past few years.
Yeah. Let’s just say not so fine.
Part of is my bond with her. She and I have been through quite a lot together. She was there before I even married for the first time. A lifetime ago. Letting her go is releasing one of the last links I have to the first part of my adult life. She has been my morning companion, getting her snuggles in before any of her doggie siblings (past and present) are ready to stir. She curls up alongside me with every meditation and loves to try to entangle me during yoga. I even had to try to teach her some physics to help her realize that she doesn’t want to be nearby when the kettlebells are swinging. I look at her and remember the kitty of the past. The one who played in a box jungle that my ex and I built for her in the apartment dining room. The cat who used to fall into open toilets. The feline who would eat the tops off of any muffins left within reach. Bittersweet smiles this morning.
Part of it is her bond with Brock. He never wanted a cat but welcomed her with open arms and worked patiently to ensure that she and Tiger had a good relationship. Over the period of year, Ms. Kitty really began to trust him and now gets her evening snuggles from her daddy. I love seeing them together. In some ways it’s harder for him – I’ve seen her natural decline over her life whereas he has only seen her for the last four years. He’s not ready to let her go either.
But it’s not about us. It’s about Ms. Kitty and when it is time for her go. Resistance may make her stay a little longer, but at what cost?
It’s a natural end.
But, damn, it sucks.
And what is it about endings that make one unearth all of the old losses from the past?
Not cool, brain. Not cool.
My days are not all about ends right now. Today, I hop on a flight to New Orleans to see a childhood friend for the first time in over 15 years. I thought that relationship ended when I moved here but, when she found me recently, it has been rekindled with a vengeance. My mind is a time machine dancing between releasing an old cat, exploring a new city (to me, at least) and connecting with an old/new friend.
Yeah, endings suck.
But life isn’t all endings.