Sunday Fireside [12/07/2020]

On Wednesday I said goodbye to a dear friend of mine. This friend has been with me for the past nine years – almost from the time I arrived in New Zealand till now. My cat, also known as The Cat, CAT or her Christian name – Nala, has been with me through my sister going back to South Africa, to moving houses, to finding a friend group, getting married, buying a house, promotions, new jobs and everything in-between.

For most of those nine years, she was the only family I had here in New Zealand. And it may seem silly, it’s just a pet after all, but when moving to a new country and up ending your life, the small constants make the world of difference.

I remember when I would get the flu and I would find my way to couch, she would insist on sleeping on my chest, and would spend the whole day on top of me. Either she was trying to look after me in her cat-way, or, like a typical cat, she saw her opportunity to finally end her human, trying her hardest to smother me while I was weak.

Our morning routine, before I got married, was her trying to come between me and my iPad while I caught up on the news from back home with my first cup of tea. After getting married, she would greet me every morning with a long story about how her food bowl is empty, jumping off the couch where she slept and following me around the house. Coming home early, I’d often get into the lounge before the cat flap would burst open and have her bounding up the passage – probably to see if I was going to fill her food bowl.

On Wednesday, the 8th of July, I took her to the vet who confirmed that she was suffering from kidney failure and her system was starting to shut down. I am grateful I got to pick her up and give her one last cuddle. I am grateful that she was able to pass without much suffering. I am grateful I was there and was able to say goodbye. But being grateful is meaningless at this time. It doesn’t make it any less sad. And I am still very much heart-sore.

And it pisses me off. The world has just gone as per normal. I am expected to just carry on. Nothing has stopped. And all I get is “Sorry to hear about…” At what point are we allowed to mourn? At what point are we allowed to say we don’t want to do anything or see anyone? At what point can we just be sad?

On Wednesday I said goodbye to a dear friend of mine.

And I miss her terribly.