With the passing of Charlie Cat, I'm once again thinking about how much I miss Carin, and how hard it is to make friends. I don't know if the challenge is my age, my stage, or life in general.
Ariel Cat and Sandy Dragon died, I reached out to Carin, who expressed
just the right amount of sympathy and compassion. With her death over a
year ago, there is still that hole.
couple of days later I told our cat sitter, who was sympathetic. I told
a couple of other people (one who still has not gotten back to me), but
there is no ONE person I wanted to reach out to talk about my feelings.
Don and Ashley were also mourning, and we talked about Charlie. I long
for someone fresh to talk to.
we go through the struggles of the college search, I keep thinking
about how Carin and I should be going through this together. Reminding
each other about deadlines. Encouraging each other to look in new
directions or at different schools. I don't necessarily need a friend
whose child is at the same stage (though that would be nice), I'm really looking for a friend who always replies to my messages and who opens
herself up to share bits and pieces of her life with me. Husbands,
daughters, and parents can't always be my emotional support. There is
nothing like having a best friend.
this helps. I've been bottling up my feelings for too long. I continue
to pray for a new best friend.
Reach out if you are seeking one, too.
Thursday, November 21, 2019
About 13 years ago we adopted Charles II (Charles I had a bad habit of sleeping in the street and did not last a year). We guess he was about a year old at the time.
The night before he died he was on the step where we found Ariel Cat a few years ago. His claw was stuck in the carpet and he couldn't free himself. Don untangled him and put him on the carpet in the bathroom under the heating vent with some food. Poor dude could not even support his back legs and ate the tiniest amount of food. Before going to bed I petted him and told him he was a good cat. I didn't think he would make it to the morning.
By 2 AM he was dead.
The "Mighty, Mighty Moosa" had faded into skin and bones. It was a conscious decision to not take him to the vet and let him die gracefully. He hung in longer than I thought he would. When I left for Israel in June, I thought he would be gone before I came home. Thankfully I was wrong.
He was doing great until last winter when the neighbor insisted he stay inside because he was always in her yard and always pooping in her garden. While I sympathize with her, she first said the black and white cat was the one causing trouble (so we kept her in the house), then a few months later called animal control saying it was the orange cat. Nice neighbor. Ugh. Charlie enjoyed roaming our yard. We never once saw him come from her direction, let alone sit on her front porch. I suspect there was a different orange cat, but to keep the peace we kept him inside and put up with his complaints. The neighbor "thanked" us by ignoring us anytime we waved hello.
This is the first time I'm publicly expressing my annoyance, which brings me to the deeper part of this post: I miss having a close friend. The friend you can always kvetch to without fear of it turning into gossip, or having your feelings belittled. More importantly, being that friend who always listens and supports (at least I hope I was that friend).
Meanwhile, Lucy, our 7-year old kitty, has become affectionate, spends more time with us as a family, snuggles, and eats more. So I guess one good thing has come out of Charlie's passing.