I acknowledge that I obsess on the death of my n-father. Today is no different. It's made worse by the expected news that our beloved elderly cat will not live much longer.
I can't shake the thought that when she dies, I will be profoundly effected. She's been my dear friend for many years. She's given me immeasurable joy, happiness and unconditional love. Having her in my life has made my life so much better. I'm brought to tears just thinking of her dying. Yet, I have absolutely no problems with my feelings toward my feline friend dying.
Where I run into trouble, of course, is the feelings toward my dead n-father and the knowledge that some day my mother will die. I've never experienced sadness over my n-father's death. I'm not numb or in denial. My life is better without having to deal with him. At best, I feel ambivalent. Regarding my mother, I am not currently in contact with her. I have no plans to change that. I may never know when she dies and I'm OK with that. In a way I'd prefer not to know so I don't have to deal with the same feelings of ambivalence that I have with my n-father's death. Yet, I would be able to breathe more freely knowing that there would be no surprise telephone call or ring at the doorbell.
Simply put, I'm bothered that I grieve the death of a cat more than the death of my parents. There, I've said it. Yet, I can name the logical reasons: she's been my friend; her presence has made my life better; I will miss her; to my parents, at best, I was an appendage, and not always a convenient one. This "knowledge" doesn't help, though.
I don't know how to reconcile this. "Shoulds" don't help me any more than logic. I'm missing a piece to this puzzle. I think I'll go look under the pile of laundry on the laundry room floor. Maybe it's hiding under there.
It's Been A Long Time...
4 years ago
4 comments:
This might help... and I hope it does.
You are right to grieve over the prospect of losing your dear cat, because you and she have a deep, loving relationship.
You look into her eyes and see love there. She looks into your eyes and sees love, too. You've been there for her; she's been there for you - she may not 'know' exactly what she's comforted you through, but rest assured, she knows that she has given comfort to you, and received comfort in turn.
There is trust between you. She lets you scratch her behind the ears, pick her up, maybe even kiss her ears, warm your feet against her side, nuzzle her belly fur, tickle her feet [two of mine used to hold hands with me, fitting one of my fingertips in between the pads of one front paw and curving their toes gently to hold it.] She knows that you will not take advantage of this trust to hurt her, ever.
Of course you grieve at the thought of losing her. Of course. How could you not? She is a warm, dear friend. A great and strong love will go silent when she is gone.
And you know just how much your father 'loved' you. How much your mother 'loved' you. Of course you will miss and mourn your loving beast far more than your unloving parents. It's because you know, and see.
I'm trying to find a tactful way to say this next bit, and I'm stymied - so I'll just say it as gently as I can: those of us who can tell where we are loved and where we are not, those of us who are able to mourn deeply for the animals who love us back -- we are the lucky ones. We are the fortunate ones. It won't feel that way at the time, but eventually the worst of the mourning will pass, and then you will find that the best of the love remains.
You and she will both be in my thoughts and prayers.
Storm
I hope this comes across right but fear it may not. I find myself asking what is wrong with feeling the way you feel? I certainly see nothing wrong with feeling that way and think it is perfectly normal to feel that way. My dog is going to die soon and I know I will miss her presence and grieve for her yet when my N-mother died I felt next to nothing and still don't.
storm, thank you for your gentle words. They do help. She's been a faithful companion for many, many years. She will leave a big hole in my life.
Funny that you should mention tickling their feet. We call it "scritching" (a word borrowed from Charles Schultz, the author of the Peanuts comic strip) when I place a finger between her paw pads and gently massage between her toes while she holds on. I consider it a great honor when my cats are comfortable with me touching their paws.
I confess I'm still uncomfortable with the disparity of emotions. Apparently I still have a ways to go to reconcile myself to my upbringing.
Ella
Fear not, bloggert7165, I think I understand what you're saying. We naturally have affection for those in our lives who are special. For those who treat us badly, we have correspondingly negative feelings.
I think where I get in trouble, feeling-wise, is trying to reconcile feeling more love for an animal than for a human being who raised me. It's not so much a justification, more of an unease with the reality. I listen to other people discuss their feelings of loss when a parent dies. They speak of how much the person will be missed. It's something I can't comprehend, nor can I seem to adequately put to words why I am ambivalent about my parents' death and/or life. There's something I'm missing in the whole equation beyond the logic of it all. It's something so elusive I can't even seem to put it to words. Something about it, the situation as opposed to my feelings, that is very wrong.
Ella
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