{"id":759,"date":"2015-08-05T02:39:51","date_gmt":"2015-08-05T02:39:51","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/abysmalwitch.com\/?p=759"},"modified":"2015-08-05T02:42:20","modified_gmt":"2015-08-05T02:42:20","slug":"reflections-in-snot","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/abysmalwitch.com\/index.php\/2015\/08\/05\/reflections-in-snot\/","title":{"rendered":"Reflections in Snot"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"IMG_1706\"<\/a><\/p>\n

This is my baby-girl. \u00a0Chinook (for the wind, not the salmon). \u00a0She was born February 2, 1997 and died August 2, 2015. \u00a0That’s right, two days ago was her last day. \u00a0The picture above was about 2 hours before her last breath. \u00a0Those are the facts, the statements, the plainness of it. \u00a0I am heart-broken as I knew I would be. \u00a0And I have had a number of random thoughts in these last 48 hours.<\/p>\n

We shall call these thoughts, Reflections in Snot, and here is why.<\/p>\n

Reflections in snot. \u00a0As I lay on my side on the balcony facing her on Sunday, when she was barely able to focus on anything, including me, when the purrs were gone though I know she still appreciated the touch, snot poured out of my nose. \u00a0Perhaps someday I will try and draw what I saw. \u00a0This rope of clear mucous dropping from seemingly midair (since we don’t really see our nose unless we focus on it) down to the grey floor of the balcony, making a thick, viscous, irregular puddle. \u00a0That puddle reflected the railing and the jasmine, lines and patterns broken up and shifted into incomprehension. \u00a0Chinook on the other side, my fingers touching her paw, sliding from her nose, down her back to her tail. \u00a0She was done.<\/p>\n

Reflection in snot. \u00a0The time itself was surreal. \u00a0I have been in a sense waiting for 3 years for this day to come. \u00a0She’s been getting older and older, as we all do. \u00a0Slowing down. \u00a0Sleeping ridiculously. \u00a0In the past week she’d been particularly slower. \u00a0On the day of, I’d gone for a walk in nature, gathered my spirit and soul into calm balance, and thus prepared to do all that needed to be done, not allowing myself yet to recognize why this calming and centring was important, but doing it and knowing it was all the same. \u00a0But none of this actually prepared me for the moment.<\/p>\n

There is no preparing for the loss of a loved one.<\/p>\n

There is no getting ready.<\/p>\n

There is getting everything around ready. \u00a0I knew what I would do with her body afterwards. \u00a0I knew the costs of cremation and what I was going to do with that. \u00a0I took aspirin before the crying headache really started. \u00a0Had a quick shower as I was filthy after my nature walk. \u00a0Forgot to eat. \u00a0One should never forget to eat before heading into intense emotional turmoil. \u00a0Note to self, remember for next intense emotional incident.<\/p>\n

I had thought it through for years, knew her time was coming, reconciled myself to life afterwards. \u00a0Or so I thought.<\/p>\n

\"IMG_0013\"<\/a><\/p>\n

How will I get through life without this beautiful girl cuddled in my lap?<\/p>\n

Reflections in snot. \u00a0For more than 18 years she was my companion, in the fullness of the term. \u00a0Was she my familiar? \u00a0I don’t know. \u00a0I’ve never really thought about it. \u00a0She didn’t help me in my direct magick, but she supported me through life in ways that I don’t even understand yet, that I won’t understand until I hit all the places where she is no longer there for me. \u00a0She was an emotional bastion (heh) and touchstone of peace and love.<\/p>\n

Reflections in snot. \u00a0For more than 18 years she slept with me every night. \u00a0Except for that one night when she was young and got outside onto the ground floor (she did that twice to me over her lifetime! \u00a0but only once when I was asleep) and those few months when she let the boys (my other cats) take over the bed. \u00a0If I had nothing else positive to say about my relationship with my ex-fiance, the fact that he brought her back to sleeping in bed with me would make it all worthwhile.<\/p>\n

Reflections in snot. \u00a0She was there every night. \u00a0Curled up at my side. \u00a0She would crawl into bed before me, giving me a glare if I took too long. \u00a0And once I was settled she would move up the bed so that she could lie with her head on my hand or arm. We would stay that way for at least half an hour as I meditated. \u00a0Sure it was awkward, but it made her happy and there were so many times during the day when I couldn’t just cuddle her as she wanted, so at night, in bed, I was all hers.<\/p>\n

When I was ready to sleep, I would gently shift out from under her. \u00a0When I was ready to roll over to the other side, I would give her a kiss on the forehead or paw before doing so.<\/p>\n

Reflections in snot. \u00a0Routines and patterns are the gems and cornerstones of relationships, where we blend into each other, fall towards each other instead of away. \u00a0We had many such routines. \u00a0Once everyone was settled on the bed, she would get up, eat and do other bodily function things, and then climb back into bed and into her spot. \u00a0Whereupon, if I did not pet her at least three times, strongly, I would get the meows of reminder. \u00a0At which point I would roll over and pet her strongly three times at least. \u00a0Then roll back and fall asleep. \u00a0Sometimes there was grumbling and muttering, but I’d always do it, otherwise, more meowing.<\/p>\n

\"IMG_0696\"<\/a><\/p>\n

She had the most amazing belly, all white and fluffy and silky soft. \u00a0She would lay splayed out as I stroked her from neck to navel, completely relaxed into me. Until she saw one of the boys. \u00a0Sigh.<\/p>\n

Reflections in snot. \u00a0The amazing friend who drove me to the emergency vet (because of course this is happening on the sunday evening of a long weekend) suggested that as a good album name (the reflection in snot) for some kind of musical group. \u00a0I don’t remember the type. \u00a0My brain was more than a little addled. \u00a0I should probably have eaten. \u00a0My friend brought me food while I stayed with Chinook \u00a0and the vet did the final injection. \u00a0She was so far gone by then that it was hard to tell the difference. \u00a0And while the last hours had all been driving us to this point, funnelling us down into the pure inescapable reality of this moment, it still couldn’t be real.<\/p>\n

Reflections in snot. \u00a0Whether I rejected the reality of it or not doesn’t seem to matter. \u00a0She is not curled up at the foot of the bed. \u00a0She is not stretched out on the balcony. \u00a0She is not here. \u00a0She will never be here again. \u00a0I can cry and whimper and weep as much as I want about it but the reality doesn’t change. \u00a0Because no matter how hard or long I look for her, I will never find her again. \u00a0She is not lost. \u00a0She is gone. \u00a0And I remain.<\/p>\n

Reflections in snot. \u00a0I wondered briefly about waiting for her to die naturally. \u00a0There was no question this was it. \u00a0Absolutely none. \u00a0Would it be kinder to let her pass on her own? \u00a0I asked her. \u00a0She was just done and ready to go. \u00a0Only the stubborn activity of her heart and her lungs kept her going. \u00a0And that was my answer.<\/p>\n

I wondered afterwards, knowing that this was the gentlest, kindest thing I could do for her, to release her from the final pains, why we can’t find it in us to allow it for human beings. \u00a0I know euthanasia is complicated and there’s no simple answer. \u00a0But right now there is no answer. \u00a0We are more generous and kind to our pets than to our fellow humans. \u00a0Then again, this is no surprise.<\/p>\n

Reflections in snot. \u00a0All of the world out of order, lines twisted, angles shot to hell. \u00a0I am so afraid of losing the sound of her meows. \u00a0Did I really never capture that on video? \u00a0Why the hell not? \u00a0Oh, right, because it was fast and fleeting and in moments when there was no camera ready. \u00a0I have to rely on my memory to hold her and my memory is horrible and so I know that she will inevitably fade out of my memory, her sweet sounds, her obnoxious cries, her downloads to her alien overlords. \u00a0Gods, please, don’t let her fade from my memory, please don’t let me lose her again. \u00a0Yet time, time is cruel, says Saturn, and to hold on too tightly will only change the memory from reality to a created something that isn’t her anyway. \u00a0I will never hear her voice again. \u00a0How is that even possible?<\/p>\n

Reflections in snot. \u00a0Have you seen the article about cat language? \u00a0That they don’t speak to each other and vocalize just for our benefit? \u00a0In essence, creating an individual language that is just between us and our cats? \u00a0My boys have a couple of her “words” but an entire language died Sunday. \u00a0Hers and mine. \u00a0I am the sole possessor now and I’m afraid I never did speak it very well. \u00a0Wrong type of vocal chords.<\/p>\n

Reflections in snot. \u00a0She will never be again. \u00a0What we had together will never be again. \u00a0Blatantly obvious right now as she was a cuddler and neither of the boys is. \u00a0Maybe that will change a bit over the next couple of months but I doubt it. \u00a0She would snuggle into my arms like a baby on her back and want nothing more than for me to rub her belly. \u00a0Gone. \u00a0How can she be gone? \u00a0Just like that. \u00a0One second to the next. \u00a0With barely a sigh. \u00a0It’s not real. \u00a0And yet, there is nothing more real than her being gone. \u00a0This is reality now. \u00a0Now being all we have, from one second to the next. \u00a0What was is gone. \u00a0What is is different. \u00a0Reconciling myself to that truth, that is the impossible part. \u00a0Yet it will happen, whether I will it or not, for I continue.<\/p>\n

Reflections in snot. \u00a0The house is quiet. So much quieter. \u00a0How did she have so much presence? \u00a0She slept 23 hours a day. \u00a0But it is silent now in here. \u00a0The streets make noise, the boys act as they always have, but there is no more snoring from the corner. \u00a0There is no more obnoxious crying while I’m teaching “Don’t worry, she’s not dying,” I have said to so many clients over the past year while teaching from home. \u00a0Except Sunday she did. \u00a0The silence echoes and rings. \u00a0I embrace the silence in a new way, listening for her and feeling heartbroken when nothing comes back.<\/p>\n

Reflections in snot. \u00a0My bed is empty when I crawl into it. \u00a0I have never been married, have only lived with someone for less than a year. \u00a0But I have had a bed companion for nearly 19 years. \u00a019 years! \u00a0Longer than many marriages, I’d bet. \u00a0Every night (minus those exceptions mentioned above), cuddled up to each other, or not. \u00a0Loving each other, or sometimes angry. \u00a0Then love again. \u00a0She has been the constant companion of my adult life. \u00a0I told her it was okay, that I was going to be okay, that she could go when she wanted, when she was ready. \u00a0And I know that it is true, and I will be okay, and I will continue, because it is what you do.<\/p>\n

Reflections in snot. \u00a0I covered my tv with a cloth yesterday. \u00a0I have always been frustrated with the ease with which I avoid life and what I think I want to do by drowning myself in movies and the internet. \u00a0Unfortunately, there is work to be done on this computer so putting a cloth over it doesn’t work. \u00a0But I have put the cloth over the tv, because if I really want to watch it, I can. \u00a0But in the meantime, there are other things to do. \u00a0There were times I rejected her attention because I was too caught up in myself, my frustrations, wanting to be comfortable while I watched another youtube video. \u00a0For her, for me, I want to put an end to that. \u00a0Though I suspect that may fade with the same regret as memories of her. \u00a0Dammit.<\/p>\n

Reflections in snot. \u00a0Grief is so very personal, as all pain is. \u00a0Our joys take us outward but our pains draw us in. \u00a0I have witnessed many people experience loss just like this or worse in the past year but it didn’t feel like this. \u00a0I was on the outside. \u00a0And no one will feel this loss as I do, for everyone else is on the outside. \u00a0We can never fully experience another’s grief. \u00a0We can let ourselves fully experience our own. \u00a0But it’s hard. \u00a0Hard to sit with emptiness with sharp edges, the perfect completing puzzle piece of my heart taken out and gone. \u00a0She is now memory and the memory of love and that will have to be enough.<\/p>\n

Reflections in snot. \u00a0There has been a magical turning for me in the past week and a half. \u00a0A new commitment, a deeper sacrifice and pledge of all that I am to what the Gods ask of me. \u00a0I had wondered, now that I had put myself so fully into Their hands, if that would change something for her. \u00a0The transition ends this coming Friday. \u00a0It’s hard not to find it related. \u00a0She’s been growing slower for so long that I honestly believed it could be years more before she actually died. \u00a0Had said that but a week before. \u00a0Yet here we are. \u00a0Heartbroken. \u00a0Lying on the balcony making a puddle of snot and enjoying the last sunbeams.<\/p>\n

\"RIMG1766\"<\/a><\/p>\n

I’m glad you got so much sunbathing in these past months, baby-girl. I remember the first time you found a sunbeam. \u00a0You looked like you had found nirvana. \u00a0I hope you are held in such warmth, love and joy now. \u00a0I will miss you beyond words, beyond stories, beyond the stretched and aching breadth of my heart and my soul. \u00a0I am so grateful to have had you in my life. \u00a0I know that I will continue without you. \u00a0But I wish you were here, just the same. \u00a0Curling up with me, purring as I rub your belly, grooming me until I literally cannot stand it anymore and make you stop (though you always tried to get at least one more lick in). \u00a0You were love. \u00a0You will always be my love.<\/p>\n

Saturn.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This is my baby-girl. \u00a0Chinook (for the wind, not the salmon). \u00a0She was born February 2, 1997 and died August 2, 2015. \u00a0That’s right, two days ago was her last day. \u00a0The picture above was about 2 hours before her last breath. \u00a0Those are the facts, the statements, the plainness of it. \u00a0I am heart-broken … Continue reading Reflections in Snot<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":764,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"categories":[3,12],"tags":[48,310,311,145,312,313,314],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/abysmalwitch.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/759"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/abysmalwitch.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/abysmalwitch.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/abysmalwitch.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/abysmalwitch.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=759"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/abysmalwitch.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/759\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":766,"href":"https:\/\/abysmalwitch.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/759\/revisions\/766"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/abysmalwitch.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/764"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/abysmalwitch.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=759"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/abysmalwitch.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=759"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/abysmalwitch.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=759"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}