It’s been two calendar months now since Bubba left this world, nine weeks tomorrow. I haven’t said too much about him, unlike when Kate, his sister, died in Feb. 2011. When she died, I wrote and wrote about her. Bubba hasn’t gotten the press time, but his death has been no less painful.
Bubba was the cornerstone of our feline family these past two-and-a-half years since Katie’s death. We brought Mia into the family four weeks after Katie’s death, and Ralphie was adopted 15 months after Mia, bringing the cat-family size to three for the first time. But Bubba was the kingpin, the Alpha Cat, the priority on which decisions were made and the world revolved. The last two-and-a-half years of his life saw me tending to his every need, telling him countless times a day how much he was loved and special he was. He was priceless, loved beyond measure.
Losing him has crushed me, even though we all knew we were counting his days. Watching him struggle for that last breath and holding his still body close to me, rocking him in my arms as I had done thousands of times over his 19 years, sucked the spirit right out of me. A part of me died with him that morning, and my world has gotten a little grayer.
He was my Buddy Boy, my Twinkle, my Snowflake. He was the Big Guy, the Dude, the A-Number-One Tomcat. His spirit was huge and his presence filled this house with an enduring warmth. I sometimes envision him now sitting in the sunshine, the rays shimmering off his soft white coat. He’s surrounded by that healing white aura. That was and is his essence.
I and the cat family (of which I am the mom of the pride) are at odds right now. We’ve lost the center of our universe. A new member has been added, Jack, and we are struggling with the new configuration. We’re just a collection of pieces right now, hoping that somehow it will all fall into place again. The two young guys, Ralphie and Jack, have paired up, but the two girls — Mia and her mom — are screwed up and stressed. We’re both on Prozac! If she feels a fraction of what I feel, it’s no wonder she wants to beat up on the world right now.
Yes, I feel guilty that a cat’s death and the reconfiguration of my family has bothered me so much. There are massive world problems right now that make this seem ridiculous. There are individuals and families in crisis that make this seems like a gnat on an elephant’s ass. And I’m crying because a cat has died and the 3-year-old and the new guy are at odds? Sorry…. but we all have our places to go to regroup and gain strength in this often-crappy world, and my place of peace has been profoundly shaken. Finding that new place has been difficult. Might be working on that one for a while.
Loved Beyond Measure
3/27/94 – 7/1/13