keeping it together

I realize to the non-pet-owning part of my readership this may look trivial, or not make sense, but it's important to me, so I'm going to talk about it.

One of my parents' cats is almost certainly dying. She's refusing food except when coaxed, doesn't seem to be that interested in things. The vet said she's not really in pain or suffering, and is trying one last thing to see if that will get her some more life (and some more quality life) but I'm not sanguine as this is a very, very, very old cat.

This cat is so old, my parents got her when I was still in college. I kind of "bonded" with her when I lived with my folks when I was in grad school. I always looked forward to seeing her on trips back to my parents.

So I've kind of been dreading this day.

My dad warned me last night that the cat was "winding down" and that she probably wouldn't last much longer. The first words out of my mouth was, "If it's time...don't try to keep her alive just because I'm coming up for a visit in a couple weeks." Because I don't want the cat artificially kept alive just so I can say 'goodbye.' I'm grown-up enough to deal with it and to understand. (And I honestly don't want to see the cat all emaciated and half-dead; I'd rather remember her as she was. And I'm not sure I want to be in on the trip to the vet's to put her down, if it comes to that.)

How I deal with grief is funny. Or at least some people would find it funny. I'm actually grateful that I have a lot of grading to do this weekend and that I have final exams to write and that I agreed to go to a play with my church group on Sunday. Because by keeping busy, I can grab a few minutes to a few hours of feeling good and happy and normal in between the grieving.

(And I'll be over this pretty fast. While it's sad, it's not the same as losing a human relative. Though then again - losing an animal is hard because [depending on what you believe] they show you unconditional love, or at least what humans interpret as unconditional love. And because I tend to have so many problems and issues in my relationships with people...)

When my grandmother died - the most recent "big" close relative loss - I was trying to finish college physics and pack to move. Both of those things helped me cope. Not by covering up the grief or allowing me to be in denial, but somehow, having "normal" every day things to do reminded me that life goes on, that there will come a time when I will hurt less and not be sad.

I think I reacted worse than I might have to the suicide of a cousin some years later because I found out over my Christmas break and I didn't have a lot else to do; I spent a lot of time thinking about it, probably more time than was really good for me.

I know some people think that way of dealing with grief is strange or "wrong." When one of my colleagues lost her husband suddenly (heart attack at a very young age), she was back to work the next week. There was a lot of talk about that. But I totally understand - it's good to go back to a place where you have some control over the situation, where there are things to be done, where the business of living keeps you from brooding on the sadness surrounding the death. Where there are things going on that do not explicitly remind you that you have lost that person. I do think some people successfully grieve and reach that "closure" state faster if they're allowed to do what seems to work for them. (Not that I'd prescribe the back-to-work-right-away for everyone; I recognize that it only helps some people and for a lot of people, going back to work right away would probably make things worse).

I didn't sleep all that well last night. (Part of it was totally external - my neighbors were away until late AGAIN and their damn dogs were barking out in the back yard AGAIN and the stupid security light kept getting triggered AGAIN. I finally stuck in earplugs and put on a dark eyeshade and managed to grab some sleep). I dreamed twice about the cat - in one dream, my mother and I were arguing about who got to take the cat in to be euthanized (It being a dream, the thought of both of us going together didn't occur). The other one - the cat was there, but I don't remember much of the dream, I just remember waking up and crying for 10 or 15 minutes afterwards. (Stupid dreams. I thought they were supposed to afford some kind of escape.)

(Similarly, after my grandmother died, I had lots of dreams about losing other family members. And after my cousin's suicide, I had a very vivid dream where I was trying to prevent someone else's suicide. Remembering one's dreams is not always the blessing some claim it to be.)

The other thing I did last night as a self-consoling behavior...regressive reading. I looked at all the books I have going, couldn't face any of them. So I pulled my old battered copy of "The Silver Chair" off the shelf and started to re-read it. It's been years since I read it so it helped, somehow. Both in the sense of an escape...and also, oddly enough, it comforted me because it was something from "the time before" - the time before my parents got the cat they have now, back when we had the old cat, Sam, the one who passed on when I was a freshman in college. (And oddly enough, now, I realize last evening I sought out another object...an old toy I had saved from childhood...which was also from "the time before" and had to have it near me while I was reading. Strange. But it did help.

So it'll take a little time.

So, while I'm trying not to be TOO sad (she had a long life, probably the best life a cat could have, and if she starts suffering my parents are strong enough to have the vet do what needs to be done), I'm still sad.