11/22/2018- Journal About Samantha

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.  

I’m settling down…a little…after one busy week.  Two tracks recorded and mixed for radio, the studio is getting ready for the last shoot of the doc, and I did a gig

This was also 5 years since Samantha had left me. A not-so-subtle reminder that it had been five years since my world had been turned upside down by someone I had loved dearly leaving me the same year she passed.  My fundamental faith in the goodness of things like love had been shattered that year.  It wasn’t even so much the leaving…it was the disclosure of being cheated on and openly disparaged behind my back.  Being contacted by “the other woman” and having her disclose years of events that were being kept from me.  The financial burdens of commitments I had made to create a better “us” that were now solely mine. Samantha leaving me was the additional burn I did not need.  It took years to sort it all out…mentally, I finally I sorted out that he was a narcissist that engaged in gas-lighting quite regularly.

I’m still not entirely sure that that faith has been restored…maybe someday I’ll find out. I’m still single…trust is hard for me now, even when I try to rise to the occasion and be open and authentic with people.  But at least in seeing the passing of this 5 year anniversary, I can see that I’m finally having more happy days than not.  Like most things…there are some gifts in what happened.  There has been some self-discovery that would not have happened if those events had not unfolded as they did.  But friends have also noted a personality change…there are some parts of myself and my personality that appear they will most likely will never recover to what they were.  Those parts simply can’t. They aren’t there anymore.   It’s like watching a barrier island get destroyed in a hurricane.  Parts of you get destroyed in those spiritual hurricanes…like barrier islands washing away under a pounding sea…because they are protecting other parts of you that are more essential.

But this past weekend…and the passing of Sam…marked five years since that awful year…that gave me some comfort.  Time and space has passed.  There’s scar tissue over those wounds now.

Nov. 2013; I came home from teaching to find my Samantha laying on the master bathroom floor, in serious distress. Her eyes had sunken, and she was crying in short, sharp, bleating cries. It was clear she had finally reached the end of her time with me.

I wrapped her in a blanket and she immediately quieted when I lifted her into my arms. I took her downstairs to the studio waiting room, where she had greeted students from all over the area daily for many years. So much so, she was nicknamed “the Receptionist”. We sat for a while…she snuggled into my chest and waited. I called a friend or two, we talked for a bit and it was apparent it was indeed time to make the hard choice. At 12:20 AM on Thanksgiving, I took my beloved Samantha to the vet for the last time.



I stood outside the emergency vet’s office door, in the darkness, in the cold…knowing what would happen once I passed through the door. My arms held a quieted, calm kitty warmed in blankets, but in her eyes I could see she was in discomfort. I waited as long as I could…partially because my arms were full and opening the door was impossible. But I also knew that this was the last quiet moment we would have, at the base of those steps, in the cold Thanksgiving air. It was a long road we had traveled together, starting that very first moment she jumped into my truck on a snowy winter night. She was my “shadow”…often following me closely when I gardened or following me for walks around the development that we lived in. No, I never leashed her. I just would go for a walk, and I would turn around…there she was, a few yards behind me, pattering along, just happy to be along for the walk. She was a dog in a kitty’s body.

And then, she became a celebrity for a bit; the local newspaper ran an article on her. People even brought her bouquets of catnip and toys to celebrate her new celebrity status.



And now, our journey together was drawing to a close.

At last, someone noticed me standing in the darkness and opened the door for me. They knew why I had come….a friend had called ahead to let them know I was on the way. There was compassion for what they knew was coming.

They took Sam from me to start prepping her, and I suggested they best not…she would most likely cry. It was best that I stay with her when she passed. They took her to put the catheter in, and immediately saw what I meant. The minute the assistant lifted Sam from my arms, Sam began to cry again….and she did not stop until she was returned to my arms.

Sam quieted. The vet arrived, gave her the required injection so her suffering would end, and she passed quietly.

I returned home and sat holding her in my arms in the waiting room for the studio, next to “her” chair. We stayed there until the wee hours of the morning. Other cats came and curled up with us, keeping a quiet vigil. My parents took her home later that day and buried her on our family’s land in Pennsylvania.

Happy Thanksgiving Sam, and thanks for choosing me. Your loving, sweet, sparkling personality is still remembered.

 

 

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