Excuse me if this post is a little sad or depressing, but I can justify myself in a moment. As I was sitting at the LYS this afternoon to work on my Ribs and Cable Tank, Shawn called. He said something was “wrong”, in which I immediately thought the kids. But no, it was Oliver. He was acting, “weird”. I broke speed limits to get home, but by the time I got here he had died. I don’t know why. This morning he was chasing us around the house. Last night he ate a load of food and walked around. I just don’t know why.
I used to attend church regularly. I helped with VBS. I went to Bible Study and did my confirmation classes at 18 years old. I was baptized. I believed in God. Years later here I am wondering why the world survives in the condition it is in. How people live the way they do without regrets. How good things happen to bad people, and how bad things deteriorate good people. AIDS, poverty, teenage pregnancy, muggings, war…I’ve never understood. With my depression I’ve often found myself pleading to God to answer me. Why me? What did I do as a little zygote to deserve a life of depression, anxiety, mania, insomnia… Why are some people born into families that abuse them and destroy their lives? Why do some children have parents who are willing to kill them and leave them in a dumpster after taking their first breath?
I do not understand. I do not understand how this world works. I know in my heart that I can get through this, but sometimes I don’t want to. I’m scared to let Scout grow up in a world of mini skirts and rape. I’m scared to let Jem grow up in a world where kids bring guns to their school. Is it a punishment that God has instilled upon the human race for past transgressions?
Theoretically speaking, I think the world should have ended a long time ago. We’ve destroyed the land, animals and the human race. And yet we keep on keeping on. As I walked through the aisles of the grocery store after wrapping Oliver’s limp body in a towl I couldn’t help but look at the people. Wondering how do they pay for so much food? Are they really happy as they seem? How can they not be heartbroken that this beautiful little 4 week old kitten who was running around when I left this morning to buy him a litter box, how can he be dead and their world still living?
I know it’s such a miniscule thing for someone else to deal with. Most people would say it’s “just a cat”. But he was part of our family. I nursed him with a tiny bottle. I wiped his butt so he could pee. We gave him a warm shelter. We loved him. Now he’s gone and I don’t know what to do. I’m sad. I’m heartbroken that God could take away such a beautiful creature. I want to know why. I want to trade him something, anything. I want to hear Oliver meowing in the middle of the night. I want him to bite my finger looking for his mama’s nipple. I want him to scratch my arms as he tries to climb up to my shoulder and purr in my ear. I just want my little baby back. It hurts so bad and couldn’t have come at a worse time in my life.
That said, I’ll be taking a blog break for at least a week. Thanks for listening if you got that far.
Rest in peace Oliver. We miss you.