12/9/10
On Mortality
Death. The very word can send shivers up one’s spine. It certainly does mine. And there within lies my dilemma. How does one deal with his mortality? For certainly we all must die. “Death and taxes”, and “no one gets out of here alive” are just two of many phrases emphasizing the inevitable finality of it all. And because death comes to us all, it is the great equalizer. Great and small, rich and poor, all will have only two indisputably common moments in our lives: birth and death.
So why then give it more than a moments passing thought? No amount of reasoning or understanding will, when our time comes, add even one more second to our earthly existence. Yet, we think, philosophize, moralize, and spiritualize about it almost incessantly. Certainly religion itself owes its presence in our lives to our quest for answers about death and what it means in our daily lives.
For, as ironic as it may sound, death IS a part of our lives on a daily basis. One exists in, ultimately, perfect balance with the other. The Irish poet, William Butler Yates (1865-1939) captures this most eloquently in his poem, An Irish Airman Foresees His Death. The entire poem is magnificent but the final line embodies the essence of the message:
“I balanced all, brought to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death”.
It is certainly a heroic and stoic approach to mortality and one that I strive to achieve in my own life. I think that it’s important to accomplish this in terms not only of our own mortality but for that of the others around as well. I think it’s called peace of mind.
Most people achieve a certain level of this peace and comfort through religion and spirituality. Certainly, when facing the unfathomable premise of the end of our very existence with the end of our lives, believing in a system that provides everlasting life is certainly appealing. And it provides comfort, particularly during our most fearful moments. But this is about truth. It's about finding a path to a deeper level of understanding: to the very essence of what it means to be alive AND what it means to die. It means understanding that which cannot be understood. It means attaining what is unattainable. I suppose that's why it's SO DAMN HARD to find!
I envy those who achieve this understanding through their faith, whatever belief system that may be. The key word here is not system but faith. By it's very definition to have faith is to believe in something that cannot be explained solely by scientific or logical means. Now, I'm not sure that faith and understanding are necessarily mutually exclusive of one another in this case. They both lead to a sense of peace and well being that it is the ultimate goal of both. The point is to be at a place at the end of our lives where we can say "my life mattered, I am prepared to move to the next phase, whatever that may be". I envy those of faith whose "whatever" lies in a traditional afterlife and heaven, etc. They believe that having lived a good life and by the values of that belief system, they will receive the reward of an eternal life in another form (again whatever that may be, according to that belief). There are certainly variations on this theme but virtually all belief systems (i.e. religions) promise some type of immortality. This theme ranges from a literal place in heaven, to endless re-incarnation and everything in between. All are comforting in their own way and that's their point. But I have not found my path there. I certainly wish that I could. It would certainly make my life a lot easier! Despite my traditional Italian-Catholic upbringing and 9 years at Madonna Parochial School, I have not found my truth there - at least not yet. And I continue to search for it, while at the same time realizing that it may be unattainable until the very moment we are confronted by it.
I have been to a number of funerals for African-American friends. Now, they. my friends, seem to have gotten it right! The affairs that I have been to have been a mixture of sadness for the physical loss of a friend and the joy of not just believing, but knowing that this person has moved on to an even better place. And they are unshakable in this. In a sense, it's a type of knowing without having to understand. Again, that balance has been achieved. It's like life itself: a mixture of joy and sorrow. And no matter how skeptical I get, I have NEVER failed to be moved at one of these services. They ALWAYS leave me with a sense of reaffirmation and comfort. It's so strong in them it gives me the strength to continue my search to reach that same point.
Despite the frustration and highs and lows my search continues to bring, there are certain truths that have become self evident to me: living a good, righteous life is the path to any type of lasting peace. Truth to those we love and, even more importantly, to ourselves is essential. Love is the most powerful emotion. It is greater than fear or greed or anger or hate. A loving family is priceless. And savor the moments we have NOW without fear for what the future may bring. It hasn't happened and, so, is not worth a second thought. Live in the moment. Love in the moment. Although it may seem fleeting, this is what lasts. We are perpetuating an "energy that cannot be created or destroyed. It can only change form". This is immortality.
Since I'm writing this during the Holiday Season, I suppose that it's appropriate to make some mention of Christmas and what it may mean for me. I have not been a practicing Catholic (or any other label) for quite some time. However, I have always been a follower of the simplest Christ message: Love above all else. And that message is never stronger than it is during this season of new birth and, therefore, renewed hope.
We have all been stung by the pain of loss. It seems that the past year has been a difficult one for me and my family. We've lost family and good friends. And that loss seems so magnified during this season. The joy of it has certainly lost it's edge for those who are experiencing their first Holiday without a special loved one. If I may be so bold, I'd like to respectfully offer this to achieve some level of comfort: on Christmas day I intend to to what I always do: renew my commitment to love as hard as I can for as long as I can.
I wish for you and yours PEACE ON EARTH, GOOD WILL TO ALL!
12/1/10
The Tail Of The Big Red Cat
I’m not sure exactly where he came from, so we don’t know his actual age. What I do know was that, he unexpectedly appeared one day, sitting in the middle of the living room floor of my apartment in Nyack, NY. He was just sitting there. Like he owned the place. He was a young cat but full-grown. And pretty big, too. And REALLY RED. He must have used the cat flap window that I had in one of my living room windows. I used it for the cat I already had, a nice, quiet, fun loving, silver tabby named Belle Star (after the infamous Wild West madam, of course!). I always enjoyed cats for their independence and believe that when they want to go out, they should. I just don’t need to let them in and out 100 freakin’ times a day - hence, the instillation of a flap window. Now, this allowed Belle Star easy access and me some peace. But it also allowed access to other critters like raccoons (another story for another day!). People might freak at that but not me. If you keep your wits about you, you will ALWAYS have the upper hand on an animal: you can think, they can’t. Use good, common sense and a broom with a long handle!! Keep the door or window open and persuade your guest to head for the closest and easiest egress. Always worked like a charm.
Well, not this time. Not against The Big Red Cat! When I entered my living room and saw him, I was not overly surprised (see above): I knew just how to handle the situation. Our eyes met. He didn’t flinch and neither did I. I exclaimed, “WTF! Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my living room”! He still didn’t flinch. It was time for the broom. I came back wielding the broom like a lance. When The Big Red Cat got a look at me raging back in with my “lance” he headed for the window and was through in a flash of red fur. “Take that, you SOB. And don’t come back”! I was very happy with my little femme fatale Belle Star and certainly didn’t want some strange, red, interloper hanging around – not on my watch! Well, that was that. He wouldn’t be back anytime soon.
At least, so I thought! Sure enough, a short time later, I was doing some chores around the apartment. I walking into my living room and who was sitting in the middle of the floor, in the exact spot I found him in the first time? Of course, it’s that DAMN BIG RED CAT – again! He looks at me. I look at him. We begin the same routine again. And, again, the ultimate result is the cat blazing through the window. After the first ½ dozen times he pulls this routine, he tries a new tactic; he runs from room to room before he heads for the window.
Well, after what had to look like a scene from a silent movie comedy goes on for about a week, I finally gave up. The Big Red Cat was here to stay and Belle Star and me had better get to used to it. That was 16 years ago and we’ve belonged to one another ever since.
Big Red (it’s MUCH easier than calling for “The Big Red Cat” all of the time) and Belle Star never really got along. She was a diva and he’s a big slob. It’s not a great combination. At best, she tolerated him. He never changed, but she did. She had to! Big Red has that effect and just about everyone. From day one, his personality was so forceful, so engaging, that he is, quite literally, irresistible.
I’m a “critter person” and have had the great privilege of being with many, wonderful animals. But Big Red may be the most unique of them all. It’s dangerous to anthropomorphize animals. But to those of us who have been around them for our whole lives know, they are all possessed of their own unique qualities that make them nothing short of a family member. And so it is with Big Red. What a joy he has been everyday of those 16 years. He has never given me one day of trouble. He is affectionate without being clingy. He is independent without being aloof. He is cocky without being arrogant. When he has to go to the vet, we don’t even use a cat carrier – we just hold him. He’s not going anywhere. When I got married he adopted my wife and 3 stepsons as his own (and they, him).
When I’m down I think of Big Red and his attitude towards life. Perhaps it’s strange to say, but he’s taught me a lot about how to approach it! But, in a sense, isn’t that one of the reasons we share out lives with them?
Recently, in a terrible mishap, one of my stepsons accidentally ran over one of his hind legs, breaking it badly. It was a warm, late summer day and Big Red was sleeping soundly under his car. Normally, as soon as you approach a car he may be underneath, he slips away. He’s gotten a little deaf lately and sleeps very soundly. He obviously did not hear the car in time. In a sense, we were lucky, it could have been much worse. Still, the leg was badly broken. Strangely, Big Red never uttered a sound through the whole ordeal. Even when I scooped him up in my arms to rush him to The Cat Care Clinic, he never made a sound – not a cry, not a whimper, nothing. What a freakin’ trooper his is!!
Luckily my good friend, Dr. Maureen Saunders, also happens to be one hell of a veterinarian and runs the Cat Care Clinic of the Nyacks. She took us right away. After x-rays she explained that the break was a bad one but that his health, especially for nearly 16 years of age, was exceptionally good. She thought that, because of that age, it would be a long recovery. However, she was optimistic that he would indeed recover. She fit his left, rear leg with a long cast – all the way from the hip to the toe. Poor Big Red. He would have to learn to adjust to that monstrosity. But learn and adapt he did. Almost from the very beginning he was making subtle adjustments to learn how to deal with that thing on his leg. First, he would drag it along. He got pretty effective with this technique and could, eventually, even negotiate long stairs. Then, he realized that he could move his hip a little bit and actually even “step” with the leg. Eventually, he was doing just about EVERYTHING he always did – just a little slower. And instead of sleeping 17-19 hours a day, he was sleeping 18-20. It was amazing to watch him adapt.
The normal recovery for this type of break calls for a cast to be on for 4-6 weeks. Because of his age, “Dr. Mo” said his would probably be longer. It was. He was in the cast for a full 9 weeks. The doctor removed it about 2 weeks ago and said the bone had healed well. But you should see how much it atrophied. It’s half the size of the other one.
We could tell that he was glad to get that damn thing off! At least he could crawl up in a nice, little round ball again without that cast and leg and sticking straight out. But the leg had become so weak he wouldn’t put any weight on it. However, as he did with the cast, he learned, little, by little, to use the leg again. First, he would put it on the ground when he ate. Then he would place it on the ground with every forth or fifth step. Now he walks on all fours! OK, he has a pronounced limp but he’s walking. Give him until the end of the year and he’ll be almost as good as new. Hey, he may not be running any marathons but that’s not what Big Red Cats do anyway. Not bad for 16!!
It’s wonderful to have my buddy back and just about whole too! He was a blessing and continues to be one, teaching me about patience, perseverance, and acceptance. I suppose there is a moral lesson here as well. I guess it probably has something do with seeing and recognizing our gifts as they come. Long live BIG RED.
PS: thanks to all who followed Big Red’s progress from the beginning and for all of your well wishes. J
