12/05/2022
My cat died.
Last week my neighbour knocked on the door.
“Is your cat home at the moment?”
I instantly knew what the subtext to that question was.
“There’s a cat on the side of the road just around the corner…it’s a tabby…I know you’ve got a tabby…I’m not 100% sure it’s yours…but…
…this one’s got white tipped paws”
I knew.
My neighbour walked with me to go see him, I didn’t need to get that close to know for sure, but I still did - I needed to see his face.
It’s been a really long time since I felt that much emotion wash over me, I didn’t care about the dog walkers and school runners walking past me. I let it all out. I’ve continued to let it all out. I’ve cried more than I did when my mum died.
I’ve felt some serious guilt this past week for that too. How could I be crying more for a cat?
But I realise that the amount of tears does not equate to the amount of pain - I cried this one out, I held the last one in.
Although I could say he wasn’t ‘just a cat’, I do have some perspective, I know that he was not a person. It doesn’t mean my pain is not justified or I need to keep it in check. But I do need to give myself the time I need.
It’s opened up old wounds, plummeted me deeper back into depths I thought I was out of. I could wallow but I also know that there’s a gift here - there’s stuff deep down there which I missed the first time. Things I didn’t learn back then, perhaps I wasn’t ready, perhaps I needed a reminder that at any moment life can turn on its head.
I still look at the garden fence and expect him to appear and jump over it, just like I still look at my phone and expect “Mum” to pop up on the screen. I’m accepting those moments will still cut every now and then, but resisting keeps it persisting.
Perhaps I needed that reminder that it is ok to feel, that I can still feel, that being human is a painful yet beautiful thing.
I definitely needed the reminder that acceptance and kindness to myself will get me through.
There are lessons everywhere, if we choose to open our eyes and our hearts.
Thank you for the lessons bud.
Max 11.2.2020 - 2.5.2022