And yet, I still don't know how to unlove someone... Part II
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And yet, I still don't know how to unlove someone... Part II
Did you know that when you cry, you let the poison out? You do. You see, I finally understood – I finally got it. “We” were done, she and I. “We” were no longer, nor would “we” ever be “we” again. It was dead, the fire which used to burn between us. In her, it had gone out sometime before that day, that moment, that slice of time. She had quenched that fire in the Sea of Forgetfulness many moons before that day and that was my fault. Well, mainly my fault and she really has left and she really isn’t coming back. For some strange reason, I was okay with that realization. I really was. I felt no fear, no grief, no anger – just a – just some kind of release, a certain contentment from having let go. It was Mooie’s parting gift to me and I cherished it. Mooie was our cat – well her cat that became our cat that went back to being her cat. You understand.
I say it was Mooie’s parting gift to me that day because it was the day they found him dead she and my daughters. He hadn’t come home for supper the night before. Sure enough, they found him dead two doors down in the front yard of a house for sale. I had just gotten up and was drinking a cup of coffee when I noticed I had a missed call.
“Papa, Mooie is dead. We found him over by Jimmy’s old house. He didn’t come home for dinner last night and now he is dead.” I told my daughter how sorry I was and could I speak with her mother. Her mother was hysterical – “I don’t know what to do.” is all she could say.
I pulled together some white dessert sage, a smudge bowl and a turkey feather, put them in the car and headed over to her house. When I got there all three girls were crying and wanted hugs from me. I was in tears as well – can’t help it when my girls are crying. Mooie was a good cat, had shown me real love and real friendship over the years, as pets do.
I lit the sage and we smudged, all of us. My daughter smudged Mooie and the cloth that he was to be buried in. I smudged the shovels and the tree, asking that we be forgiven for cutting off some of the roots to bury our friend. The sweet smell of that ancient sage seemed to take the edge off the grief and move me to a place of serene grief. She was still saying she didn’t know what to do.
“Bury him. That’s all that is left for us to do for him. Bury him. Can you pick a spot while I go get the shovel?” As she looked around the yard and pointed to the base of the maple tree. Her new significant other arrived, walked out of the door into the back yard, saw me and froze, staring at me in disbelief. After a few awkward moments, I said “The kids called me. I’m here for the kids.” It was the right thing to say as he unfroze and silently walked over to her. She hugged him.
She hugged him the way she used to hug me – that heart-wide-open hug, that sharing of energy between two souls. With shovels in hand, we began to dig the hole, she and I, right there under the maple tree. So many roots. After a time, I stepped back to rest my back. She was digging by hand around the roots and he was helping her.
It hit me right then – he was now in the emotional heart-space she used to hold me in – she had moved on, truly moved on and he had taken my place. I realized it and let it go. This was not just the burial of Mooie the Cat, but the burial of my illusions about repairing our relationship, about my family getting back together, about that hollow space inside being filled with light and love.
I didn’t stay to finish putting Mooie in his spot under the maple tree. I made sure the kids were centered enough emotionally. I hugged each one. She looked up at me and said “Thank you. Thanks for coming. Thanks for the sage and for helping us.” I nodded my head, held my hand to my heart, then extended my arm out toward her signing “From my heart to yours.” the way we used to – it was habit. Her eyes filled with tears and she looked away and continued to dig the grave with her new partner.
I turned and left silently, unobserved, tears flowing all the way home, uninhibited by thought or pride. I grieved the death of a familiar and the death of a relationship. Did you know that when you cry, you let the poison out? You do. You really do.
I say it was Mooie’s parting gift to me that day because it was the day they found him dead she and my daughters. He hadn’t come home for supper the night before. Sure enough, they found him dead two doors down in the front yard of a house for sale. I had just gotten up and was drinking a cup of coffee when I noticed I had a missed call.
“Papa, Mooie is dead. We found him over by Jimmy’s old house. He didn’t come home for dinner last night and now he is dead.” I told my daughter how sorry I was and could I speak with her mother. Her mother was hysterical – “I don’t know what to do.” is all she could say.
I pulled together some white dessert sage, a smudge bowl and a turkey feather, put them in the car and headed over to her house. When I got there all three girls were crying and wanted hugs from me. I was in tears as well – can’t help it when my girls are crying. Mooie was a good cat, had shown me real love and real friendship over the years, as pets do.
I lit the sage and we smudged, all of us. My daughter smudged Mooie and the cloth that he was to be buried in. I smudged the shovels and the tree, asking that we be forgiven for cutting off some of the roots to bury our friend. The sweet smell of that ancient sage seemed to take the edge off the grief and move me to a place of serene grief. She was still saying she didn’t know what to do.
“Bury him. That’s all that is left for us to do for him. Bury him. Can you pick a spot while I go get the shovel?” As she looked around the yard and pointed to the base of the maple tree. Her new significant other arrived, walked out of the door into the back yard, saw me and froze, staring at me in disbelief. After a few awkward moments, I said “The kids called me. I’m here for the kids.” It was the right thing to say as he unfroze and silently walked over to her. She hugged him.
She hugged him the way she used to hug me – that heart-wide-open hug, that sharing of energy between two souls. With shovels in hand, we began to dig the hole, she and I, right there under the maple tree. So many roots. After a time, I stepped back to rest my back. She was digging by hand around the roots and he was helping her.
It hit me right then – he was now in the emotional heart-space she used to hold me in – she had moved on, truly moved on and he had taken my place. I realized it and let it go. This was not just the burial of Mooie the Cat, but the burial of my illusions about repairing our relationship, about my family getting back together, about that hollow space inside being filled with light and love.
I didn’t stay to finish putting Mooie in his spot under the maple tree. I made sure the kids were centered enough emotionally. I hugged each one. She looked up at me and said “Thank you. Thanks for coming. Thanks for the sage and for helping us.” I nodded my head, held my hand to my heart, then extended my arm out toward her signing “From my heart to yours.” the way we used to – it was habit. Her eyes filled with tears and she looked away and continued to dig the grave with her new partner.
I turned and left silently, unobserved, tears flowing all the way home, uninhibited by thought or pride. I grieved the death of a familiar and the death of a relationship. Did you know that when you cry, you let the poison out? You do. You really do.
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