Posts Tagged ‘ dead ’

What I Know About Love

Wednesday, March 20th, 2013

My Cat Friend, Karl

I put the following on my FB Fan Page:

“When I got up this morning, I found my young, much loved, Maine Coon cat, Karl dead on my bedroom floor. He had died instantly with a genetically bad heart. He had slept with me part of the night, snuggling in my hair and under my chin and covers as he always did. I knew he would die suddenly in the far off ‘Someday’ but not today. Every day I told Karl, many times a day, how much I love him. That’s all we can do with our pets and people. Love them, tell them, treat them well & help them be as happy as possible. Everything ends here on earth, ‘Someday.’ xo venus”

A few weeks after I got Karl as a kitten, my vet told me his sad future. I chose to live with that eventual reckoning and keep and love him. Just as with any relative of mine, my animals are with me for life, no matter what.

I loved Karl intensely, always knowing the outcome, knowing I only had a year or two with him.  I kept him and I loved him, knowing that the pain I would have, would be in direct proportion to the deep love I chose to feel for him.

My ex-husband has never had another animal since we divorced many years ago. He still recalls his pain when our 2 dogs died, and he says he can’t go through that, again.

I tell him, “By doing this,  you’ve left a number of desperate animals without a home that could have had safety and love with you.” I say, “I know that the pain of loss is huge, but the pain of not loving a human being or a creature, and refusing and being afraid to love again, is greater.”

I tell him that when we close our doors to loving animals or people, we ask for and accept a more barren existence.

My cats then climb into his lap and he loves them for a moment. Then, he leaves my house and goes back to his life of golf and bridge and beer.

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Mother And The Chinese Doctors

Monday, April 30th, 2012

Mom's Chinese Doctor

 

My mother and I thought it was a good idea at the time.

I say, “Mom. Let’s go down the mountain and see a Chinese herbalist and get me some Chinese herbs to mix up and brew. I know they’ll make me feel better.”

“Good idea, honey,” my mother says. “You always have such good ideas.”

(This all happened many lives ago, while I was divorcing my second and last husband, and I was a physical and emotional wreck. I needed a cure.)

Off we chug; down the mountain to a quirky place called Hillcrest where I quickly find just the right little shop for me. It’s dark inside.  From the ceiling hang swaths of  dried plants. Glass jars packed with ground, pulverized, and shaved herbs (and probably beetles and dung and dragonfly heads), sit on shelves.

Oh yum. I forget all about my unhappiness with the Bad Husband.  (more…)


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