I wasn’t sure I was posting a Substack this week. I managed to get one out two weeks ago. If you read it and realized how cryptic it was that’s because I couldn’t say, write, type or even think the words.
As a journalist I know what words equal fact. I know that we’re not supposed to write that someone “passed away.” It’s not accurate. We insist on death. We always insist on death.
I’ve written the word myself quite a bit, maybe more than the typical newspaper reporter. I only understood the euphemism in theory. I was empathetic but carefully distant — carefully cold.
When the news about the boy I loved in high school was delivered to me, I feel like the word “dead” was used. When various aunts and uncles died — they were dead. When I was told about my brother, then too, the word was “dead.”
Dead.
It is so final. So jarring. So complete yet so completely without context or feeling.
I understand the facts. I appreciate the facts. I seek out facts.
But I prefer the euphemism. I want to be a little bit in denial. I want the pain to linger like the memories. And, honestly, some words feel truer than the facts.
I’ve been saying I lost my cat. He is lost to me. He was here in my lap, cuddling and purring, and now he is not.
It was sudden. Probably an aggressive cancer. Even though it was more than three weeks ago now, I finally fact-checked the vet last night. I couldn’t sleep. I needed to know if that’s how it had to end — that it, indeed, had to end at all.
I wanted to be angry. I wanted him to be wrong in a way so that I could go back in time in my mind and do something differently. One day it will help that there really wasn’t much that could be done to prevent or prolong the event. He had many spots on his lungs — a rare cancer occurrence in cats, it seems but typically fatal.
“Make them comfortable.”
We didn’t have time for that. I hope he wasn’t in too much pain. I hope he knew how loved he was. I hope he knew that I was trying to save him right up until the end. I wasn’t ready for him to go.
It was just days before when he was still pitter-patting across the comforter up to my pillow, beckoning me to let him slip underneath and into my arms. How could I have known how sick he really was? He lulled me to sleep purring like he always has.
I barely told anyone. I couldn’t. With each new person who knew, it became a little more real. It became a little more true. My denial was shaken. I want to live in my imagination — it’s much better there, it always has been.
One person misinterpreted my the phrase “I recently lost my cat” to mean I literally lost him. She invited me over for tea — three cities away. I never would have guessed that she thought I just lost him in my neighborhood. If he were alive and out gallivanting, i definitely would not leave my city until he was found and back in my lap.
My brain hurt.
My brain hurts. So does my heart.
I realize he isn’t the one who is lost.
I am. Without him.
For his whole life -- and nearly my whole adult life -- we've been together. Everything else has been temporary, fleeting, but we endured. He is the longest, most serious commitment I’ve ever had.
He was well worth it. Pets, like children, can wreak havoc on your social life. They can prevent you from traveling, from staying out late and, on occasion, be a catalyst for a break-up.
I chose him every time.
Cosmo, I would still choose you every time.
You saved me.
You taught me to relax. You let me be myself.
Only now do I realize how freeing it was to have a relationship that required no words.
He was my best friend. He’s still my best friend, my baby, my soul-mate, my light in the dark. Ha. My white knight. Sleep well, my darling, I’ll see you in my dreams.
So sorry Maria. I felt exactly this way when I lost my first dog. She had been there with me through so much, and was an amazing being. Looking at photos of her happy on hikes and elsewhere helped me. And my sister lost her cat very rapidly years ago. It definitely isn’t your fault, it happens, and you were right to end Cosmo’s suffering ❤️
Not me, crying in my kitchen reading this. I'm still so sorry for the loss of your Angel, but I'm also so glad he had to go when you are in a space with a support network around you to help you. Love you