I wish I could say you get used to death. But I never do. It tears a hole through me whenever someone or something I have loved dies. It always leaves a deep scar.
Sylvester, our cat died the other day. That final morning as I was looking into his eyes and feeling sick knowing this was the end, He just laid there looking directly back into mine with that expression of love and trust that I had grown to know. It was the same stare that and had melted my heart countless times over the course of his seventeen years on this Earth.
Some may wonder how you can be so emotional about this, the loss of an animal. Those of you who have had a special relationship with a pet companion know the answer. Silvi was always a loving uncomplicated and happy little fellow. No matter how bad a day I may have had, how stressed or pissed off that I may have been, he was always able to cheer me up with his unconditional love.
Sylvester was a house cat who never experienced a life outside. We rescued him as a kitten. He was a feral cat that had been born in the woods and destined to live a hard life. We took him home and after the trip to the vet for all his shots, we learned that It will take a long time, and a lot of patience to build a trust with an animal that would not normally have the genetic disposition to offer it back. In time, we were rewarded with a companion that would be right there at the door when we got home and happy to see us. I know he had a very good and comfortable life.
I’m sad at his passing, but I’m glad to have had him in my life, I feel richer for it. Death is always very hard to process because of the raw emotions that accompany those stark realities. There’s sorrow, remorse but there is also the flood of fond memories. Most of us carry plenty of deep scars. But with those deep scars come the consolation that the love was that deep as well.