Good Journey, Little Friend

A quote that are speaks to me today:

"Be still when you have nothing to say, [but] when genuine passion moves you, say what you've got to say, and say it hot." D. H. Lawrence

As one who has been criticized all her life for being too quiet, I find the first part of this quote liberating. I suppose there are those who have experienced my more vocal moments and wish I would shut up. The more patient ones among them will understand that I am still learning to express this thing called passion. My efforts are sometimes clumsy and sometimes awesome. When they are clumsy, I want to quit; when they are awesome, I want to quit. How crazy is that?
Writing has proved to be no different than speaking.

New topic:

This past weekend I had the amazing experience of sitting with my adult daughter through the long days and hours as we watched her beloved cat, Alister (aka Fuzz Butt, Fuzzy Britches and fuzzles), fade from this life. I will not tell you that he "fought to the end" as so many obits say. He did not struggle. He did not fight. When he reached a limit he settled into it as if to say Oh, guess I can't do that anymore so I'll sit here. When he could no longer walk more that a few wobbly steps, he sat down and rested until he could move again. No fuss. We could learn from this.

At times he was restless but not very often and not very long. In general, though he looked as though he felt like shit, he seemed at peace. That was our goal: to effect a peaceful natural death. We succeeded.

He slipped out of his body and out the door just minutes after my daughter left to take a walk and get some fresh air. I watched as he tried to get up one last time. I helped him to stand but he couldn't. His mind wanted to stand, the legs just couldn't go there. I could feel the realization dawn on him. I know that sounds corny. But he tried to put his little legs down and they wouldn't go. So he simply relaxed in my hands as I lay him gently down. He didn't try to move again.

I applied some holy water to his crown chakra and stroked him as he settled. I tucked his paws into a comfortable position as I sang a Tibetan mantra to soothe both of us. OM TARE TAM SO HA. I continued singing. OM TARE TAM SO HA. I've been told that the sound of mantra as one is dying is a very good thing. OM TARE TAM SO HA. Hearing is the last sense we lose and the mantra helps hold the consciousness steady on its path to the next rebirth. I hope it works. OM TARE TAM SO HA. It's the best I can do. OM TARE TAM SO HA. If you're not into the belief in reincarnation the sound is still beautiful and immensely soothing. I know this from years of experience. OM TARE TAM SO HA.

I heard a little noise. Did he cough? And then another. And that was it. He did not draw another breath. OM TARE TAM SO HA. As the stillness settled over him, I knew he had gone to meet his "mommy". His old bag of bones couldn't go so he left them behind.
OM TARE TAM SO HA.

Good journey, little friend. We'll meet again.