Somalia

That's the name I gave to the cat, the starving cat I found a while back - or who found me. He died today - well, technically yesterday. He was very old, and the vet said he just shut down. It happened in a single day. So he lasted a month.

We are sad, because loss makes us sad. But we understand that this is the order of things, and we never invite anyone into our lives without the awareness that they will leave us, or we will leave them.

Today - well, yesterday, technically - would be the 18th birthday of someone I loved with all my heart. Why, that's about how old Somalia was. But this boy that I loved was a bright and beautiful soul. Very damaged, because there is evil in the world, but he overcame so very much.

Not a day went by, that I didn't tell him I loved him. And showed it. But I do have a regret. I don't recall telling him how much I respected him. That used to torment me. But I'm over it. I don't have to be perfect, in my communication. I remember his many tears, but I remember his laughter too, and there was more pleasure in his company than frustration. But it is important to annunciate these truths, about love, about respect. Saying them makes them more real. "Let there be light" - and there was light.

So Somalia has died, and gone into the dust, or the air, or where ever it is that cats go when they die. We save our love for people, but we hone our capacity for kindness, and tenderness, on such dumb and dignified animals as Somalia.



J