Grief…

After a few days of being without Miss Kitty, I feel as if I am truly grieving. It’s amazing how such a small friend can leave such a large empty emotional space when she’s gone. There are no tears, just this forlorn and helpless ache. I cannot get the picture of her body out of my head. It was lying in an otherwise ordinary and peaceful pasture. There were flies buzzing. She wouldn’t get up when I called to her. The whole atmosphere seemed surreal and fake, as in ‘This is not happening right now’. I think I switched on the automatic pilot in order to perform the necessary task of burying her. Now I am sitting in my office writing about her and all I can think of is that she should be wandering in, meowing softly, and sliding past my ankles. She would want some attention, a scratch behind the ears, perhaps, or a game of ‘catch the shadow’ on the rug. Not tonight, pumpkin. I am so sad.

I have encountered death only a couple of other times so far. The first was when my Uncle John died in 1984. I was stunned, but I had been using already and so my emotions were kind of numb. I guess I still have not confronted that grief. My grandmother died a few years ago, but she had been bed-ridden and infant-like for a couple of years before she died, so in a way, for me, her spirit had departed long before her body. In both of these cases our family had prepared for these finalities months in advance. We all knew that Uncle John was dying, and my grandmother as well. Maybe it is the suddenness of Miss Kittys end that I do not want to accept. She was so vibrant, so alive, and so present in all ways. To have her suddenly snuffed out like a candle is a terrible shock and, as I said earlier, leaves a large empty space where she used to be.

My mother agreed that next week we can visit the ASPCA and rescue another cat. It would be great if there was a room at the shelter where we could go and ‘test drive’ our new houseguest. You know, try out the standard features of ear scratching, rolling on their backs, purring, lap-sitting, etc…oh yes, I forgot…We’ll have to bring a newspaper and pretend to read and see if the kitty wants to stay current with world events as well. *G*

Johnnyboy

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Johnnyboy

Johnnyboy is a queer recovering alcoholic. For the moment he is also the primary caregiver for his mother, who suffers from age-related cognitive impairment. She is happy as a lark and is surrounded by a crew of sober women which gives him the freedom he needs to get out of town. When he is not at home in Somewheresville, he is searching out the proper path to travel for happiness and joy. He is a photographer who believes in the digital age, but feels that film is still where its at. He has a darkroom and works in it. He is single and is in remarkably great physical condition for all the damage he has submitted his body to. His cardiologist is very happy. Johnnyboy is over the age of 35.