The Return of Sam……

One year ago, our cat Sam disappeared from our house.  Our indoor  only cat was nowhere to be found.  I highly suspect our other cat, Pippin, used his 22lb body and pushed Sam out the window when the housekeeper was there.  My wife tends to not accept this lack of mens rea on behalf of Sam.  Rather, she believes that the cat “made a choice” to leave the feline luxury of a 4 story home for the rustic charm of a northeast winter.  I am not convinced that a cat has the mental capacity to make any choice.  They have the brain the size of large walnut.  A shelled walnut.  Our daughter wrote poignant essays in kindergarten about her lost pet, and we moved on.  Recently, we added a 4 month old kitten to the household.   We had one confirmed sighting of  Sam in his rustic splendor…. and then never saw him again.   Until 2 weeks ago, when my wife saw a cat on the local cat-rescue site that had an odd resemblance to our Sam.  Now, one year almost to the day later, Sam has returned to the fold.  Wife seems to think that as Sam “made a choice” to live elsewhere, he should not be so readily allowed back.  Especially since, with 3 cats and a dog, we are not being scouted for next seasons “animal hoarders.”    I make a point to discuss the potential consequences of  “running away” to the neighbors with our six year old.

I wonder if Sam’s return is a sign.  Cancer makes me see signs everywhere.   Didn’t I start to have sternal pain just when Sam disappeared.  Do I not now have pain relief with Sam back in the house?  Perhaps Sam was my cancer talisman, and his disappearance allowed its’ return.  What does that say about Pippin?  He does look at me with a malice at times…..  I have often thought he is trying to trip me when I go down the stairs….  does my beloved 22lb lovemuffin actually seek my demise??  I make mental notes to watch Pippin more closely…. he is an entirely black cat, and does seem to more actively cross my path than is necessary.

We have too much disposable income, because we have purchased “cat pherenome” diffusers for around the house….  The cats are supposed to be calmed by this, and stop fighting, but all I notice is the chocolate lab taking a highly affectionate attitude towards Pippin.  I also, oddly enough, find myself leaping up to catch moths and have a strong desire to nap in the window sill when the sun hits it.

  Last week I went to a funeral for a 9 year old boy.  I work with his mother.  He tragically died from appendicitis.  He was asymptomatic.  He had gone home from school complaining of an upset stomach and nausea.  Two other 9 year olds had also gone home from his school with stomach bug type of symptoms.  Mom tries to get son to bed, tries to get him asleep.  The boy becomes unresponsive, and dies a short time later in the hospital.  I find myself coming back to these facts at the oddest times of the day.  I can only uncomfortably think of the anguish the mother and father are experiencing.  How does one not blame themselves, as a parent, for failing this child?  As a parent is the crucial part…. because as an observer, I can objectively dissect the facts as I know them…. I can reason and move onto something else.  I can safely say I would have done nothing different that those parents…. safely say.  I can scour the web and find many similar stories and realize that even in 2012, this is not as uncommon as you might first think…. that appendicitis can be maddeningly impossible to diagnose.  But as a parent I would or could not absent myself from that horrible blame…. that somehow I should have known what was occurring within the flesh of my flesh…..  how does one find their way back from that?  There is a way, I know there must be.   I know we, in this country, will not accept “randomness” in the death of a child.  We do not have random deaths of children and will not accept such a thing.  So what do we do when a child dies from something that there is no answer to?  The priest at the funeral told us to “go to the light.”  To seek the light of God…. The light of God is comforting the child, and will comfort us… That the child is bathed, now, in the light, and is with our heavenly father, and we should be comforted.  I find no comfort in the priests words…. I find more solace in the randomness of nature…. That boy is not comforted by the light, That boy had a goddamn soccer game this weekend.  That boy will have reminder “notices” for the dentists and well-visits coming for the next year, each little postcard another reminder that “the light” is bullshit, where a 9 year old is concerned.  Rather someone in church tell us that the boy had a good mom, and a good father right here…. that maybe he is in heaven, but he is not comforted to be there…. maybe he might tell his good mom and his good father here on earth that he’ll be ok, because they were such good parents, that he’ll see them someday, but to know that he is ok, that he was not in pain, that he knows that his mom and his dad, right here, did everything they could, and he doesn’t want to see his mom and his dad cry anymore… that he knows that his mom and his dad did not fail him….   maybe for me, that would have been better…. but i can safely say that from the congregation…. safely.