Saying Goodbye

I haven’t blogged in nearly a year, even though I have been meaning to.  Sometimes its nice to have an outlet for thoughts and feelings, and a way to document them and look back.  Fifteen years ago Renee and I adopted to cats, Tabitha and Scully (pictured left).  For ten years they were our “kids”.  They brought companionship and the general happiness that pets bring to their owners.

We lost Tabitha last year, and it was sad for Renee and I but our son, Connor, wasn’t quite ready to comprehend why she couldn’t come back.  He’s a year older now and unfortunately Scully, who was at least seventeen, had started to have kidney issues.  About 6 weeks ago she lost weight and became very week in a short period of time.  After a few days she snapped back to her old self and was running and playing like a kitten at times.  Then last week that changed.

Seemingly overnight Scully had become weak and quite thin.  She was no longer eating or drinking enough, and we took her to the vet asap.  We ended up having to leave her for two days to be hydrated on an IV, hoping that it would get her through this spell.

Connor was sad that she wasn’t home, telling us that he missed her in a cracking little voice.  We explained she needed to be at the doctor to hopefully get better.  It was a good way of allowing him to understand the realities of life and how sometimes things will happen that will make you sad.  Sometimes you’ll wish things were different, but you have to do what is best for those you care for.  This was a lesson he learned when he was younger but he was likely too young to have the memories.

Connor came with me to pick up Scully from the vet, and he was really excited to see her.  He was caring and thoughtful; wanting to carry her carrier and talked to her on the ride home.  Like Renee and I he called her “baby girl”, and he pet her softly.  After a few days at home she became far too weak and we could not let her suffer.

I made the call to the vet this morning, making an appointment for when I was done work.  On the way home from work, Connor was with me, and I explained how we had to take Scully to the vet and she wouldn’t be able to come home.  His little eyes welled up and he said he’d miss her and asked if she got better would we be able to bring her back.  We talked a little more during the drive bu he eventually drifted off to sleep.

When we arrived home Scully was laying on the floor, exhausted, barely able to get up.  I picked her up and sat on the bed with her on my chest and Connor and I talked once again.  It gave me an opportunity to explain more about life and how nothing is forever.  Everything at some point will die.  It’s ok to cry and be sad and long for things to be different, but its something that just happens. He asked to hold her and they laid together for ten minutes or so, which is where the above picture came from.  She was at peace and he was comforting her.

As we were ready to take her to the vet, he walked out of the room and told me to wait.  I saw he had walked across the hall to his bedroom, and figured he was getting a toy or something.  A moment later he came walking in with one of his blankets for Scully to keep warm and be carried in.  I couldn’t have been prouder of the care he showed.  He was sad but he took the time to care for and comfort Scully.  The sequence made me realize that the things we try and instill in him everyday do actually stick.

Once Renee arrived home we took Scully to the vet and Connor was able to stay with his grandparents for a little while, while we went.  After getting to the vet we went back to the exam room where she passed quickly, looking up one last time. While it’s sad that Scully is gone but she left a lasting marks on her family and a little boy who cared for and loved her until the end.

I ran into the mother of a friend I had from the time I was 5 until this year. She was like a 2nd mother to me and it was great to see her. It’s not as if I had a falling out with this friend, I just had to let him go. We generally only talk here and there in the past few years, but when my father-in-law passed there wasn’t a message, a card or anything. This is a person my wife and I had live, for free, in our house when he needed help. Yet, not even a text or FB message with condolences.

On the other hand there are people I have known for a short time who have been there in ways a cannot even explain. People who have made me feel whole again and brought me laughs and smiles. I generally do not lament the end of friendships, it happens, life changes and new people come and go. Some, however, just spark something in you and fit like a glove.

Essentially, I’ve learned to appreciate those that are there for me in whatever capacity they can be and not sweat the ones whose lives no longer converge with mine. I do not believe friendship is necessarily fleeting but it is not permanent without some attention being paid to it.