Goodbye, Old Friend

Sylvester took his last breath around 430pm yesterday. I was holding him in my arms as Pam stroked his head between his ears...his favorite spot. He barely struggled. Just a moment of crying out in fear before he relaxed and then died peacefully as I held him and sobbed. Pam was crying too. Her baby who truly adored her had left us both. Strange how I thought of a couple of Marines who took their last breath with me at their side. I wished I could have been as gentle with them as I was with Silly. But I can cry and grieve a beloved pet. Just not a human life. Instead I get stoic and dissociate.
Now the routines we had interacting with Sylvester begin to hit us. I started to go get his food dish to wash it out as I have for years now. The reality suddenly hit me. The grief is physical as well as emotional. My body aches and I'm so very tired. I woke at 3am thinking of death. Not unusual since I often have combat nightmares. But this was grief waking me.
How in the world did I allow this cat to capture me like he did? He was frequently in competition for Pam's affection during our time together. And yet, yesterday before she came home, I reluctantly kept going down to pet and soothe him. I cried as I told him the plan. He purred loudly as I petted his head and down his now bony spine. His eyes were tired eyes of an old timer who had had enough. I understood exactly how he felt. I feel like an old blues song I often listen to that has the lyric, "I'm tired....so very, very tired".
On my facebook I commented that it seems sort of irrelevant a cat died in the face of all the problems we have in our stuggle for peace and justice. But personal heartache doesn't care about politics or the stupidity of humans. It just happens and at that moment of heartache nothing else matters. The most important thing I did yesterday was hold my old friend as he took his last breath. With my loving wife sitting right beside me and him. The most important thing I could do yesterday was tell him how much his life meant to me, that we loved him and to tell him goodbye.
After I carried his body out to the vet's pickup, I thought how appropriate it was to be snowing and so cold. It captured the pain of the loss. I returned to the house and Pam and I embraced each other and cried. It was probably the most tender embrace we've had for many years. Our lives go by and we take each other for granted until the time of heartache comes to make us remember one another.
Today I called Isaac to let him know. I thanked him for bringing Sylvester into our lives He was the one who brought the cat to our home. He was going to take care of him. That didn't last long. Isaac has his own troubles which aren't conducive to caring for a cat.
I couldn't keep from crying when I talked to Isaac. I'm sure he was upset. And, of course, my fear was he would use the death as a trigger to use cocaine. Another heartache waiting to happen. And I can't say with any certainty I will cry as I did yesterday. With Isaac it has been a long drawn out process of dying where neither Pam or I can intervene to stop it. I only hope this death of our old friend won't be the final straw for Isaac.
I miss seeing Silly in the sun room basking in the sun. Sitting with his feet tucked under his body. I miss his nagging me to remind Pam it's time for her to brush him. I'll miss him going out in our yard and turning it into his own personal jungle. How did I allow this cat to get this close to my heart?