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Four Years - De File — LiveJournal
Does Collecting Make You Feel Dirty?
Four Years
The last few nights have been a sheer delight on the feline front. Smokey has really settled into her new home. She comes out now without any prodding on our part. And, woman, does she love to play! I'm so, so glad that Bean picked her out for rescue at the Humane Society.

For all those pleasures of the domestic, however, I've been feeling a little off. But I couldn't place the feeling. When I went to check the date, though, it hit me. Today is an anniversary I'd rather not remember, one of the worst days of my life. Four years ago we tucked Skylar into bed as if everything were normal, cried together on the floor in the front room, called Kim's mom to come sit on the couch, and got in the car for the longest drive down Oracle that I ever hope to experience.

How does that saying go? You can always find room for new love in your heart, but nothing fills the space left behind by the departure of a loved one. Tibbs, we're happy here. Thing One has taken over many of your old habits. Thing Two sits on the sofa with Skylar the way you used to. And our new Siamese is destined to do great things to further the feistiness of the Nicolini-Bertsch household, following ably in your riot-grrl pawprints. Still, not a day goes by without Kim and I missing you. Even Skylar, who was so young when you left, mentions you all the time. And you're still on our voicemail greeting too.

Imagine this: Kim is singing her caterwauling version of Hole's "Miss World" with the lyrics she invented just for you: "I am gray and fat/I've got bad breath." You're gnawing on her head deliriously. Skylar is laughing so hard it sounds like she might burst. I've got the video camera in one hand and your favorite belt in the other. That's how what I want you to remember. That's what I want to remember. March 8th? Let's use the date to remember, but also remember what we want to forget.

Mode: Litmus lozenge
Muse: There's A Place For Us - Tom Waits

4 comments or Leave a comment
kdotdammit From: kdotdammit Date: March 9th, 2005 02:13 pm (UTC) (LINK TO SPECIFIC ENTRY)
This made me cry. I miss Tibbs so much every day. I wish she could have lived forever. I wish she were here right now. She's my girl. Now I'm crying all over myself.
siyeh From: siyeh Date: March 9th, 2005 02:50 pm (UTC) (LINK TO SPECIFIC ENTRY)
Sometimes I think that death of animals is so hard and visceral because we love them so simply. My cats are pretty much the greatest, and I know when my mom had to deal with the death of one of our childhood pets, we were all crippled with pain. Our relationship to them is simple and just love, without resentment, issues, complications, etc. Those memories always hurt.
cbertsch From: cbertsch Date: March 9th, 2005 04:25 pm (UTC) (LINK TO SPECIFIC ENTRY)
That's a nice way of putting it. There's usually no baggage with a pet. I mean, the pet may have baggage, but the person typically doesn't. From a psychoanalytical perspective, what we get from loving a pet is our own loving mirrored back to us without distortion. Some would say that that's all we get, that the pet is not capable of real love. I, however, think that the mirroring is also a redoubling, because we get our own love returned to us and something else that sure seems like love along with it.

Thanks for writing. Good luck today!
elizabeg From: elizabeg Date: March 9th, 2005 05:30 pm (UTC) (LINK TO SPECIFIC ENTRY)
That's lovely. I'm thinking of you.
4 comments or Leave a comment