Loss

“It is one of my personal beliefs that when you miss someone you can find them in the mountains”

Synge is gone.

Friday went about as well as could be expected for all that was involved. She had a really good last day. There was much scrambling of eggs and opening of tuna cans. I curled up with her when she wanted me to and just sat beside her on the kitchen floor (her preferred spot) when she didn’t. For a bit Faelina even snuggled up next to her and fell asleep; I hadn’t seen them together like that for a while and it warmed my troubled heart to be able to see it one last time. And outside influences aside, she seemed to be much more content than I’d witnessed for weeks.

I held up fairly well. When I was home with her I managed to stay fairly calm with only a few teary eyed moments. But around noon I had to go into work, when I gave her a goodbye kiss I lost it and cried the whole way to Benchmark. I managed to pull myself together and arrived home a couple hours later with clear eyes. At that point our time together was down to mere hours. I fed her more of her favorites and then just sat, stroking her silky soft fur until Steph showed up. With Steph driving I decided to forgo the cat kennel; I didn’t want her to be stressed. Instead I wrapped her up in her favorite purple blanket, told her we were going on one last adventure and then held her in my lap as we drove off. An hour later she was gone.

As I pulled myself back into Steph’s van after I was drained, empty. I had no idea what to do or say. I was struggling to process what new reality the world had just become. I’m so grateful that Stephanie was able to come with me, was there, because not only did she keep me from having to do this impossibly hard thing alone, she knew what to say after to give me comfort and something to hold onto.  She said “It is one of my personal beliefs that when you miss someone you can find them in the mountains”. She said when we lose someone that is where they always go. They seek out a spot that is peaceful and quiet and wait for you to come find them. I stared up at the mountains the whole way home.

Yesterday I went up to Adams Canyon. It was my first hike in a week and I rejoiced in the hard climb that led me up into the mountain. At a spot a few minutes away from the waterfall I stopped.  There I sat, looking through the trees and over the rocks. I could envision her – whole, happy, and healthy – slinking through the underbrush and peeking down from a rock high above me. I could almost feel her curled up in my arms.

I miss her so much but now I know that she’s not gone for good. She’s just up in the mountains, curled up sleeping in the quiet spaces, waiting for me to come find her.  

 

French Doors, Mountain Falls, Harry Potter and Eggs

It's been awhile, just past a month. My lack of posts aren't due to a sudden loss of interest in writing; rather it's that almost the second I landed in the US, my days were transformed into a frenzied whirlwind of busyness, so much so that I have a hard time catching my breath at times, much less writing. For the most part this fall has been a sparkling waterfall of happiness, but just recently that waterfall grew darker with one sliver of icy sadness. So what has been happening? Well....

To start off I finally, after almost a year in Utah, have moved into my own place! It's a little two bedroom, two bathroom mobile home on Main st. in Layton. It could not be more different from my Brunswick apartment. In some ways it’s a wonderful dissimilarity (I have more space, much nicer features and fixtures, I’ll be warmer in the winter), but in others I’m filled with nostalgic sadness as I remember the charm and history of my old place that just cannot be recreated. And Layton's Main street, well, let's just say it's not my favorite, especially when I look back on the bustling magic of Brunswick’s. Still, I love my new little home. I love the freedom of having my own time and space back. I love the quietness. I have very little in the way of furniture and I honestly love that, the lack of stuff makes my whole life feel less cluttered. My favorite part of the whole place is my master bathroom, more specifically the French doors that open up into it. They add a touch of luxurious glamour to life that I quite enjoy. The rest of the bathroom is pretty great too, like amazing, especially when compared to my old place (those of you in the know will remember how much that bathroom needed help). And since I don't have a need for an actual second bedroom, I am in the process of turning that second room into my very own ….. LIBRARY!! Seriously a dream come true! That could take another month or two though as I’ve been slowly, meanderingly making my way through all my possessions to get everything arranged and where I want it to be. Part of that can be chalked up to my own indecision of what I actually do want but mostly it's because I've been spending a lot of my free time out wandering up mountain canyons.

My visit to Norway was amazing in thousands of ways. One of the biggest was that every day without exception, I was outside. My lungs, skin and mind were awarded constant access to fresh air and I ended my trip rejuvenated and refreshed to so great a degree that I realized just how much my lack of outdoor adventures in Utah was negatively affecting me. As I sat on the plane back to the US I vowed to change, promised myself explore more. Thankfully it hasn’t been that hard of a promise to keep. There is a hiking trail close to home that follows the river of Adams Canyon up a glorious waterfall. It's a tough hike, especially the first little bit (someone described it once as trying to run on the beach - uphill), but spectacularly beautiful. I’ve been going about 3-4 times a week; most days I just go a short ways up the trail before turning around, but at least once a week I’ll dash my way up to the waterfall (and by dash I mean very slowly trudge up the sandy hills and rocky paths). Always, without fail I return to my car - and life - with a relaxed and happy soul, ready to take on the world. My hope is to soon find other trails to wander down, maybe find another waterfall or two.  

There have also been a few other things keeping me preoccupied, the two best being Harry Potter and Neil Gaiman. I’ll start with Potter first. Back in April (at least I think it was April), Steph and I went on a hike. We had a fabulous time and talked about many things, one of which was throwing several theme parties for the kids over the summer. We had lots of ideas and picked three, the best of which (in my humble opinion) was a Harry Potter party. We planned this one for last and at the time our scheduled date seemed so far away I felt it’d never come.  But come it did, last Saturday, October 15^th when the boys and Faith woke up to find Hogwarts acceptance letters (their first thought was a trip to Universal Studios in CA, which gave me a bit of guilt). They were given Harry Potter glasses to don and then sat beneath floating candles to be sorted – by the actual Sorting Hat from the movies – into their houses (we had two Gryffindor’s, two Hufflepuffs, and a Slytherin!). They picked and painted wands, played Quidditch with a slightly different set of rules than the books, and had their fortunes told with a crystal ball! They indulged on treats of chocolate frogs, licorice wands, cauldron cakes, Droobels Best Blowing Gum, and Butterbeer. It was fun, laughter filled hilarity and I was so psyched throughout every single second of it!

Neil Gaiman’s turn now. This man is my absolute favorite living author (Charlotte Bronte still remains my all-time favorite) and earlier this year he published a new book “The View from the Cheap Seats”. It’s a compilation of essays, speeches, introductions etc… that he has written over the last few decades. The Granades, incredible friends that they are, and knowing just how big a fan I am, gifted me this book for my birthday. A couple weeks ago, after finishing “The Prisoner of Heaven” by Carlos Ruiz Zafon (someday I’m going to have to share just how much I love him too), my eyes fell upon the cover of Gaiman’s book and the time just felt right for me to read it. At first I was a little skeptical on whether I’d enjoy it as much as I have all his other works, because it was non-fiction, a genre that tends to be a little more difficult for me to fall into. A few essays in I felt as though I’d walked through the gates of literary heaven and was surprised at just how much fun this book was to read because, again, non-fiction. Then I realized that I’d been an idiot from the start because it was Neil Gaiman who wrote everything, so obviously it would have pulled me into it’s spell, just like everything else he has done. Now, with fewer than 40 pages to read (out of 502) my feelings towards this book have only grown more positive. I got to learn his insights on his approach the art of storytelling; was told just how strongly he believes in the importance of books and reading. I discovered which authors, artists and musicians inspired him growing up, and which of those still wow him today. The passion in his words has instantly jumped them all at the top of my “To Read” list, and I can’t wait to get started! Neil Gaiman is a magical genius and I swear that each time he picks up a pen to write the page he touches turns to pure gold. For anyone who loves Neil Gaiman novels, for all of you who dream about writing yourselves, I cannot recommend this book strongly enough!

And now I come to the icy sliver of sadness I mentioned earlier, Synge. I’ll start first some upbeat news. Faelina, I’m happy to report is thrilled beyond meows to have a new place to create havoc in. She gallops the length of the house several times day, chasing every light, shadow and (to me) invisible creature that catches her eye. She pulls towels down from the hooks delightedly, jumps onto the kitchen counters with impossible glee (because she knows how much I hate that), peeks into the oven with devious curiosity, guards the window with pride, and when all that's done collapses in happy exhaustion upon whatever spot feels comfortable to her at the time. In short, she is back to her little sparkly fairy self (sometimes with a touch of demon thrown in).  It breaks my heart to say that Synge's story has not read well.

During our first few weeks at the house she did seem much more content. She had lost a little weight while I was gone but an increase in insulin and (at the vet's suggestion) the addition of a nightly scrambled egg seemed to be helping. But last weekend I looked at her and saw a change; one that was stark and severe and made my heart grow cold. She'd lost more weight (even though all she does it seems is eat), she wasn’t grooming herself; each footstep she took shook, and she sometimes stumbled when standing up. I thought through this with fear. I picked up the phone and asked my mom for advice. I drove to the clinic after work to talk with the vet. I cried, a lot. At the end of it all, I made an appointment for this Friday and, barring a much needed miracle of sudden health, that is when I will wrap her in my arms, give her one final kiss and let her slip into peace.

It’s a situation that sucks. It’s the worst, crummiest part of pet ownership. It’s knowing what you have to do but still questioning, second guessing everything you know to be the right thing because you so badly, desperately, ache to be wrong. Synge has been with me through so much, was my comfort in every struggle for 10 years, and the idea of not having her with me hurts like a razor sharp, bone crushing hell. But it's not about me anymore; it's about her and what she needs. My mom helped me come to the conclusion that I owe it to her to let her go with some dignity, to not wait until she is in constant discomfort. So this is what I must do.

My goal will be to spoil her as much as possible this week. Outside of work I’ll be sticking fairly close to home and I’ll take most of Friday off work. She’s getting extra scrambled eggs every night and lots of canned food and tuna fish, something she has shown great enthusiasm for. I brush her every night because I can tell it’s one of the few things that still bring her pleasure. I’m very sad. My whole body just wants to break down and cry. I feel like I’ve let her down because I couldn’t keep her healthy (I know it’s not true but that doesn’t change anything). Again though it’s not about me, it’s about Synge. Even if I haven’t let her down, I will be if I keep her alive to make life easier for me.

So yeah, that’s where I’m at in life. Obviously for the next few weeks life will be covered with a tinge of blue, understandable I think. I’ll focus on keeping busy. I should be able to; after all I still have a house to set up, mountains to find, and a whole new reading list to dive into. And I like to believe, hope, that Synge will still be with me, even if it’s no longer in this physical realm. She has without doubt been the best cat; I am so grateful that of all the people in this world she chose me to be her person.