The Pain of Loss

I found out yesterday that Grey, one of my cats back home, is dying and will be put to sleep this Friday afternoon (Oregon time). As many of you know, I'm very much a cat lover. That alone would make this hard for me. What makes this even harder is that she is the cat that first made me love cats. As long as I've loved cats, she has been at the center of it. Every cat I love or have ever loved, was because I first loved her. Whenever I returned to Oregon after a semester at college, or after working in Santa Barbara, I wanted to see her as soon as I was home. It is hard for me to think about returning from four months in India and not having her there to welcome me back.

Although it is hard being on the other side of the world while this is happening, I'm not sure it would be any easier being there either. I so much want to hold her just one last time, to let her curl up in my lap and take a nap. One time wouldn't be enough though. It wouldn't make it any easier to say goodbye. I remember saying goodbye to my cat Dusty almost three years ago. I was the one that took Dusty to the vet. With a trembling hand I signed the form authorizing for him to be put to sleep. I held him and gave the nod to the vet. Seconds later I felt the weak beatings of his heart stop, and I knew that it was over. I don't think that was any easier. Honestly I'm somewhat relieved that I don't have to sign that form this time.

Finding out while I was in a public internet cafe was hard. I dealt with a few other emails to try to get my mind off of it. I printed off a copy of the email from my parents, and headed home. I fought back tears most of the way. I felt overwhelmed as I squeezed into a crowded subway train. The Indians always stare at me because I am white. Their stares felt even worse since I knew that my face was covered in tears.

When I got home I went over to the girls place. We were meeting for a community fun night, so even though I was showing up early, I knew that in all likelihood there would be multiple people there. At this point I was no longer weeping, so it may not have been entirely obvious how I was doing. I hung out for a bit until Kristen (non-leader) asked me how I was doing. Unable to talk about it, I simply handed her the copy of the email. As she read it I started to cry again. She offered me words of comfort, and gave the email to someone else. I talked about it a little as each members of my team took turns reading the email. The more I talked, the less I could talk because of my tears. April offered to pray for me, which I easily agreed to. I wept even harder as she prayed for me. I felt the love of the people around me and somehow that gave me the strength to truly let go. It is an awful, terrible, scary thing to feel pain that has no answer. It is even worse to be alone in that pain.

After that we sat in silence for a while as my tears continued to flow. Eventually other people cautiously started talking. Listening to them distracted me from my pain, and eventually we were able to spend the night telling stories and laughing together. I think it was really good for me to have that break and just enjoy the company of my team. Eventually I returned home. I looked at a picture of Grey that I brought with me to India. I turned off the lights and cried myself to sleep.

I have a lot more reflections already on my mind about this, other things going on for me in Kolkata, and how all of it ties together for me. Hopefully I'll get those written up sometime in the next few days.