The transition from Mike’s passing is made easier by friends. Not so much the human kind, as we as a society do not discuss death in any fashion,until we are forced to. As some people are relaying to me, they are afraid to say too little or too much, so comfort arrives in the form of flowers, casseroles and calming music CD’s. Which I appreciate, don’t get me wrong.
But the most empathetic of my friends, they have four feet, not two. And when everything around me, when I do venture out in public is bubbly, merry and bright, I can wear a smile for a little bit of time. Yet, it is when I arrive at my home and I open the door, and I see Molly greeting me as she never did before. Paws up on the security screen as I unlock it. The minute I step inside and shut the door, she leaps on my chest and purrs her hello, headbumping and licking my face. My real smile returns.
Kota stays by my side and is ready to be a four-legged kleenix when the tears threaten to overwhelm me, which they quite often do. I miss Mike’s goofy stories, his laugh, his banter with the nurses. He would say each time they came in and told him they wanted to take his vitals: “You can take them, but you better give them back!” Or when the BP machine was taking his BP he would put his thumb in his mouth and puff his cheeks like he was blowing up his arm. They would all laugh at him.
The emptiness surrounds me and if I let it, the loneliness could overwhelm me. I am sad but trying not to be, but will be glad when Christmas is over and the New Year begins.
My two constants, Molly and Kota see to it that I have joy in my day, when Molly lays on my lap and kisses my nose, or Kota fetches my car keys and drops them on my lap, and then goes to get his leash to drop at my feet. That’s his way of lifting up my spirits- “Let’s go outside and play ball mom!” Even though there might be a bad storm raging outside, he is trying to calm the emotional one raging inside of me.
Mike’s obit is here: They made a mistake on the date of his departure and will print a retraction this week:
Franklin has been moved to the cat enclosure that attaches to the house, and for now, the tunnels are closed. He is a warrior kitty and he and Pigeon and PITA want to do battle badly! He also attacked Kota after showing no signs of fear towards Kota when they first met- no hissing, no arching of the back, no growling, not even flattened ears or tail- just one solid attack (biting and clawing) poor Kota’s muzzle. So he will be out there for now, and there are warming beds and hidey holes for him and I will continue to work with him to make him adoptable down the road.
Yes, we as a society like to think we are sophisticated. After all, we discuss sex all the time, right? That shows that we’re grown up. The much-maligned Victorians were much better at dealing with death, talking about it and accepting it, perhaps because they were more sure than today’s society that there was something afterward.
When we lose someone, it is frequently the ordinary things we miss most, the things that were every-day. And we miss them, every day. I am glad that the animals understand, on their own level. We think too much; they feel.
God bless you.
I hear you. It’s been a very odd experience to see how folks react to my losing my mother, or my telling them I have cancer (found after my mom passed). They gloss over it as if they didn’t hear.
I have tried, and will continue, when someone tells me of their loss, to tell them how sorry I am for their loss, to show I care.
This past weekend we did 18 hours of driving in less than 48 hours, to show my aunt and godmother, how much we cared for her, and my Uncle who just passed.
I am grateful every day for my pets, they are just wordless expressions of love, ever present.
Pat, I am stunned to learn that you are now battling cancer. I wish you all the good grace that God has to meet the challenges before you. I am grateful that we met so many years ago, and I got to see first-hand what a kind and loving soul you are. You will now be entered into my prayers daily and I do wish you and yours a Merry Christmas and a brighter New Year’s ahead.
I was surprised too (!). I am so very glad we got to meet, and I pray for you often, and will continue to do so. Huge hug to you, and yes, I think everyone I know deserves a much better 2019!