The day that I knew that Arlene would have to be put down, I did what I have always done since I was a child – I took care of business. I called the vet and scheduled it. I made a note in my calendar to give Arlene delicious catfood and spend quality time with her. And then when I thought I had all the details covered, I came back upstairs to work. In the background was T crying and asking if I was sure it was time. And I kept stoically taking care of the details of ending Arlene’s life. But one moment, I was sitting here in front of my computer working and I started sobbing uncontrollably and tears and wails just poured out of me like an alien had possessed my body. My companion, Arlene, who had been through so much with me and had been part of my life for 14 years was going to leave me forever. T heard me from downstairs and came running up to comfort me.
Last night, instead of going back to the hospital to see my mother after her third code blue, I began to fix things around the house, and then I took out dinner and prepared everything and set the table with candles and opened a bottle of our nice red wine. I tidied up all the work details and loaded some more Bob Marley songs on my IPod and then I drew a bath and got in and stared at the walls. I then waited for T to get home and served our dinner. We toasted to better days and ate our dinner. And then I started crying like it was the end of the world uncontrollably sobbing. My mother is dying and although she has been an enigma all my life I will miss her (and miss her now) so much that I ache from the inside out. T sat in my lap and wrapped her arms around me and stroked my hair as I sobbed and sobbed.
The zen saying is that as one door closes, another opens. Wolfie was in the laundry room in our foster care when Arlene was in her final days. When Arlene passed, Wolfie came into the house to join our family. Perhaps a baby comes into our life as my mother leaves us. But what I’d like to know is why must I always experience joy so close to sorrow?