I didn’t meditate as usual this morning. Solomon died suddenly and tragically (perhaps from an illness or an internal condition). So very sad.
I rode the waves of grief and trauma and just let them come. I did my best to not attach to the emotions but acknowledged them. I diligently tried not to create stories along the way, but I am not sure I was successful. I struggled with feeling responsible somehow, and guilty for not being able to help him in his distress. I felt helpless in the face of his anguish … and mine.
I sat with him for an hour or more – probably 2. I think he went into a deep shock and was slowly slipping away. I thought I heard faint purring and sporadic shallow respiration. At one point I could hear a faint heartbeat, but after a while even that went away. I was just heartsick.
I sought to PAUSE and feel what was happening in my body. At one point I had a major sugar-crash and grabbed for glucose-tab. At another check-in with my body, I wondered why I didn’t feel aversion to touching what I rationally knew was a dead body. While he laid on my bed, he was warm, and I comforted him. Or at least I want to believe I was. I think I was comforting us both.
I wanted to RELAX. I am not sure I was relaxed at all, but I was not anxious other than hoping that he would somehow bounce back after the shock. But eventually I had to admit his respirations and heartbeat were gone. We moved him to the living room, wrapped him in a towel, laid him on his favorite paper bag. We started to change our environment to fit the new circumstances. It was therapeutic to gather his things and store them in the garage. We decided where we were going to bury him, stepping outside to breathe the fresh, cold air. I felt it rush into my lungs, the hot tears still stinging my eyes, while the tension flowed out of my body just like in practice. My vision was filled with our beautiful surroundings and I let it soothe my aching heart.
I allowed myself OPEN to the immense sadness and grief of losing my beloved ‘Kitty.’ I grieved for Morgan and for Taylor, as they both would be immensely sad of his passing. So unexpected. I let myself feel the deep sadness with curiosity and kindness. I was sorry for Chuck, as I was afraid he would think I was weak or silly for being so torn up about losing our cat. But Solomon was more than just a pet – he was a link between the past and the present, a small piece of Morgan living in our home (since he was her cat), and a remembrance of times and people past. He embodied a piece of my history. Solomon was my companion during the day, and my sleeping buddy at night. He meditated with me from the beginning, curling up on a meditation cushion beside me while I struggled through those early days of committed practice. He was verbal and talked to us all the time, reporting about the things he would see in his catio while we were having our morning coffee. I opened myself up to all those memories and felt deeply how much I would miss him.
The house is so different without him this afternoon. I am giving myself much compassion and space to grieve fully the loss of my friend. Somehow the loss triggered all the other memories of death I have experienced, and Chuck’s, too. We sat and talked in the quiet. We remembered his son and I talked about my mother. We cried some more. We supported each other, listened deeply, spoke our truth, and let the silences just be. This loving interchange I can only call unconditional dialogue.
Love manifests and then it goes. And somewhere in between, life happens.
|Goodbye, Kitty. I love you. We will miss you.|