Why?

Imagery courtesy of Castle Argghh!
(IYKYK)

A number of times over the last year I've learned to check Facebook before wishing someone a happy birthday. Too many times I've checked on an elderly buddy only to discover that he'd passed away at some date in the past, since his/her last birthday.

Now Facebook is kind of an odd thing. I have many friends there whom I've never met in person. Why am I friends with them on Facebook? Common interests, knowing people in the real world we have in common. It's also a great way to keep up with family when those family are spread over the world.

Some of my Facebook friends are folks I used to work with, being retired (twice over now) there are folks I don't want to lose touch with.

That opening picture? I got that from a friend who did it using some sort of AI tool. I thought it came out very well.

The central character is a badger, an American badger to be more specific. He's surrounded by cats, all walking into the sunset. It looks as though they are emerging from a forest, following a narrow path which leads to a clearing.

There's a saying in one of my circle of friends "they've entered the clearing, at the end of the path." Signifying that that person, or beloved pet, we'll get to that, has passed from this existence to the next. Whatever that might be.

That saying comes from The Dark Tower by Stephen King¹ -

“Go now. Our journey is done. And may we meet again, in the clearing, at the end of the path.”

We have other sayings about death, some far cruder, some perhaps more enlightened.

Now to specifics.

I first encountered this fellow over at the old Neptunus Lex blog. He commented as "SCOTTtheBADGER," as his first name is Scott, and he's from Wisconsin, the moniker made sense. (Far better than some I've seen.)

He was a gentle soul, he loved cats, he lived on a farm and had a large number of cats, working and homebodies, that he called friend. He posted a lot of photos on Facebook of him and his cats, usually them piled on top of him during a cold Wisconsin winter.

His birthday was the 21st of August, as Scott was in his mid-sixties² and in relatively good health, at least he hadn't reported any recent ailments, I went ahead and posted on his page for his birthday. Later in the day I saw a post in one of my Facebook groups that Scott had actually passed away, one week before his birthday.

I was stunned, to say the least.

There's just been too much of this death crap going around lately. I know, I know, it's part of that whole "circle of life" thing, but I still hate it.

A friend of mine from the old days on Okinawa lost his wife this year, a cherished colleague from work passed away in May, my daughter's dog of 14 years died, one of my best friends lost her cat of 15 years recently, the list continues. I hesitate to check my phone/computer in the mornings these days for fear of someone else entering the clearing at the end of the path.

There are those who say, "they're in a better place now, no more pain, no more sorrow." I do believe that, the pain and the sorrow is left for those of us mourning our dead.

I mourn you Scott, I truly do. You were a gentle soul, a fellow lover of the feline race, and a good, solid human being.

Though we never met in person, and I hate to realize that now we won't have that chance, I felt I knew you as a person. I counted you as a friend, a comrade, a fellow veteran.

Scott mourned the loss of a number of his feline friends over the years, he had just commemorated the one year anniversary of the passing of one of his favorites. Now he can be with them.

I shall truly miss you, brother.

See you in the clearing someday.

As to the question in the title ...

Someday we'll know.

¹ Before becoming a political radical he was a very good writer. I'll say no more about that.

² I thought Scott was in his fifties, a mutual friend notified me of the error, so I corrected this. Still far too young in my opinion.

Don't Interrupt the Sorrow ...

The Sorrow of Love
(Source)

Tuesday was an emotional day, Anya's ashes came home, which completely took the wind out of my sails.

A horrible dream on Monday night, "they" had lost her ashes and I feared she would not find us. A primitive fear, but very real to me. Sleep was fleeting and disturbed. Much like the night before her final trip to the vet.

Before lunch, something told me to make a phone call, so I did, to our vet. When they answered they said, "Ah, we left you a message to call us, Anya is here."

Yes, I know, she wasn't there, but what remains was. Important to us as we mean to have our cats with us when we travel to the other side. Not having her ashes would have left me bereft.

I was in the main lobby of our building at work. I thanked the lady, she sounded sad, no doubt she's made that call many times. I stood there for a moment after hanging up, emotions bubbling up, but I took a deep breath and went about the rest of the day. A short one but a tough one nevertheless.

I left early to pick her up, remembering the last time I went there. This was different but nearly as hard.

She's home now, spiritually and physically.

As we did with our cat family members before - Tiger, Pat, Sasha, and now Anya - we can mourn, we can eventually recover and think of all of the happy times together. Nearly thirty years worth.

It's a time to mourn, a time to remember, and yes, even a time to cry.

More Waterloo on the 'morrow ...

But not right now.

Peace.

On Loss

Sandy Eggo, photo taken in January of 2016

I'm feeling a bit on the ragged edge upon this Saturday night as I write.

My Dad would have been 94 on the 6th, he's been gone twelve years now.

Time goes by too damned fast.

It does bring new and good things though and we'll talk about that some time, but not today. I just ain't in the mood for it.

Had a call from LUSH on Friday night, a jet went in near China Lake. The pilot did not survive.

She knows I follow the doings of our military and am particularly sensitive to the affairs of Naval Aviation, having friends and relatives in that business. The call was to assure me that Big Time was safe and sound. No one of our inner circle was involved.

We had another conversation on Saturday. Some of you, perhaps most of you, will get it.

"Thank God it wasn't someone I know ..."

"Dear God, what am I thinking, someone knows and loves him (could be her as well these days)."

The relief, followed quickly by the guilt.

Sometimes it is someone you know.

Friday, thank the Lord, it didn't strike as close to home as it could have. But somewhere a family grieves.

I grieve with them.