It’s a cloudy morning. It’s supposed to rain today, maybe. We might get a thunderstorm. Nothing is all that definite except for me, and my cup of cold coffee. I’d microwave the stuff but have you ever drunk microwaved coffee? There’s something eerily still about the beverage once you bring the cup out. Like the molecules were vibrated into submission or something. Like a swamp creature might pop out of the liquid. Also, it’s a quite unsavory thing to do to a decent cup of coffee. Tastes like death. I’ll drink it cold, thanks.
In other news, I just found out I have to show up at noon for work today. I should have looked more closely at the schedule but I was busy yesterday, on my day off. We were all rather mopey and un-enthused. We had to put Janey the cat down last night. None of us seemed to have much energy after the trip to the vet. We mostly stared at social media and played mindless games on our handheld devices last night. I watched a little television and contemplated my mortality a bit.
I stroked Janey’s head as we left the room. She’d been gone a couple minutes. The rigidity of her usually-expressive head and neck seemed wrong to the touch. Like her essence of being had drained from her, and she’d become a thing when we weren’t looking.
Alex and Judi were in tears. Lots of sniffling. I held it together in the room, but I wasn’t doing too great myself. Afterwards I wanted to do something that proved to me I was still alive. I needed to interact with others, but in my own way. After a quick trip to the grocery store, I went home and tried to say hello to a few friends via text message. Maybe a good chat would do. Maybe a few funny stories or an exchange of ridiculous internet memes. Nobody was around so I lay upstairs on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Everything seemed bland though, kind of like microwaved coffee.
Daniel stayed home, grieving in his own way. Right now, he has the bad cold that afflicted me over the weekend. He had skipped his class yesterday, and a bit ago, told me he wouldn’t be going to school today either.
I wonder how much dignity there is in letting someone just die. We could have waited for nature to take its course. Janey hadn’t eaten in a lot of days. She walked down the stairs yesterday and collapsed on the floor, panting. I let her lie there, hoping she’d recover herself. Twenty minutes later, I noticed she was gone. I went into the bathroom where we keep the litter box. She was lying on her side by the toilet, her hair matted in litter-grit and dampness. Maybe it was more pee. I picked her up and lay her on the couch. She couldn’t really lift her head. I wondered if not eating was her cat-way of intuitively recognizing it was time to go; her way of powering down.
Was it a mercy to let her go? Or should we have tried another round of medicines and IVs to put the fight back in her? Someone smarter than me once wrote: There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die. We think she passed even before the doctor came in to administer the drug. The local anesthetic just wore her body out. It was time.
Langston Hughes wrote “Life is for the living / Death is for the dead. / Let life be like music. / And death a note unsaid.” There’s ample truth to that.
For right now, I’m gonna keep on living. I’ll keep blogging about music, and hopefully lots and lots of other things. And, in the meantime, I’m alive. I’m healthy (mostly) and I plan to keep it that way. Might as well not trudge through life drinking microwaved coffee.