I held their gazes while they died. It cut me, deeply, but I wanted more than anything for them to see how much I loved them in that last moment. It was painful to watch the light dim. It does. One micro-second the engine is on and the lights are working and the next all goes dark.
And they were gone, into the ether. I watched. I witnessed. I saw it happen.
I said goodbye.
Zami'd been not-herself for a while. She doesn't... didn't remember me much and often stared at me like I was a stranger in her home. Over the last three years we became aloof. It hurt but I understood it wasn't personal. My heart broke every time friends came over and Zami woke herself up to be sociable and get love from everyone. Everyone else. Not me.
I lived for the moments when Zami would stalk into my office and cry at me. I would look at her and she would see me. Me. And it was Zami, my cat, wondering why everything was different. I never knew where she was in her fugue but she saw me. I would drop everything to talk to her and get love from her. And hold her and she would tuck her head into my elbow crook and I would sit like that forever. In her case, forever usually lasted less than seven minutes.
But those seven minutes here and there were everything to me.
She was our night prowler, our sentinel. It was just like her to wait till we were gone.
I resent her for that just now.
*
We have one of those cheap fridges where every time the door slams closed the freezer door burps open. And every time it burps open I remember that she's in there, in a sealed garbage bag, in the freezer. And a madness at the bottom right of my skull tries to squiggle in. And I erase it. But now I know it's there. Even if I supress it I know it exists. Waiting.
I cannot unknow the mad, sharp broken window of death.
*
We had a plan with our cat care people. Every time we went away for the night we took turns saying goodbye to her. This last time I was running late. I was scatterbrained. I was clutching my final five lists and reassuring myself that if I didn't have it I wouldn't need it. Which was true.
What is also true is that I forgot about her. I forgot to say goodbye. I forgot to tell her how much I loved her and how special she was to us and how it was okay if she was done now. I know she knew it. But all I keep feeling is this wave crushing my chest cavity reminding that I forgot about her.
*
It matters, somehow, that we came home to an empty body, void of spirit. Just a thing that tried to mimic our beloved, tried and failed. I had to close my eyes to touch her. And then I felt her. Just a whisper left above the surface. But I found her.
*
We are waiting for her ashes to come home. This year we will have three cat spirits ate our table for Dumb Supper, the only time they are allowed up there.
I am waiting to clean out her window seat. She was a bully. She had shared it with Luna and Bella but when Mara came along she said, "nuh uh." I want to clean it all out and open it for a while to encourage Mara to claim time at the front window. But I am waiting until it feels right.
I caught Mara sitting on the floor in front of the front door, looking out the window. That's how she watched when Zami was up there. I thought she got it. Maybe she does. Maybe she doesn't. So I'll wait a little longer, until I can bear to open it up and see for myself that she's not there.
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