The Final Boo!

Betty White says “ if you look at the negatives you spoil all the good stuff and it goes by and it’s gone and you haven’t tasted it.” I think I need to keep repeating this to myself each day. Maybe put it on a t-shirt, if I wore t-shirts, just to remind myself of the ultimate simple truth that it is. I have started the practice each morning of lighting a candle and saying a prayer of gratitude. I have kept a gratitude journal for years. I believe in the potential they have to open your eyes to the world around you, and their ability to keep you present. But a prayer over a candle at sunrise to say thank you, not thank you BUT or thank you AND….just thank you, is a monumental shift in power. It is almost as if now you are fucking with the Gods. I contend it is a radical and dangerous thing to do. IF you start, and I dare you too, be prepared for the demons to make it rain. Once I began, the clouds that rolled in over my emotions were dark. I have always been honest in my writing about the humility I feel toward the universe and my humanity, so I will tell you now, I was simply not prepared. Saying thank you has become scary. And maybe that is the ultimate weapon against the darkness, gratitude.

Last night my cat, my favorite being on the planet, died. There is nothing that could be done. He was young large and handsome, but whatever his purpose was here on this earth, he had fulfilled it and he left in an instant. I remember that morning lighting the candle and feeling myself sink into the gratitude of being, and by nightfall I was terrified to ever say thank you again. They fucked with my cat. They win.

I openly admit that I did not get up this morning and light a candle. I opened my eyes and cried….and cried…and cried. It will be a long moment before I strike that match. But here is the thing, RoRo had a great day. He played and snuggled with my son all day. I am away working and Noah was taking care of him for me. They are best friends and lounge lizards together so it was perfect. When Ro cried out, my son got him to an emergency vet an hour away…… in 43 minutes…………..10 minutes later, we had the diagnosis and were left no options. As we all faced timed in, we sat together with him. Here is the moment…….I could not do it…….. I could not say I am ready, but my son, holding my big strong funny cat wrapped in a blanket ironically printed with umbrellas, did. I became a weeping child and he an adult. Such a strange turn of events.

We spend our childhood looking to grow up and our adulthood looking for the emotional freedom of youth. This was a brutal threshold of change. Noah held Ro till the end and beyond, and then he told us it was time to go. He paid the bill on his own. Tonight was the night my boy became a man. I am grateful. I watched it happen before my own eyes. He cried so hard, but he was strong and grown and selfless. He was communicative and loving. He is truly ready for this world. When I do strike that match I will say thank you for that. I raised a man that can treat all beings with love and dignity. We make the mistake sometimes of valuing animals as “less than”. We value trees and flowers as “less than”, but they are not. If we stop long enough we can see that. Maybe that is the power of prayer, the pause. Some cultures send boys out on journeys to become men. Some people trek through the wilderness to hear their calling. Others, strike a match and pray they see the gratitude in the rolling thunder. It is there that the lesson lies.

Ro Ro was excellent at games. He loved to play “Boo”. I would say “Boo” and he would run and hide around a corner and jump out at me. He jumped high and loved a good fright. He could play all day and mouse all night. I feel as if I am in the middle of a game of “Boo”. I told him last night, you go hide and I will find you, thank you for finding me….”Boo!”……..

Strike a match.