Jimmy's disappearance

thinking about love and loss and all that

I think about a lot of things all the time. Sometimes I become aware of how much I think and the ‘serious’ nature of those things and wish I could take just a slightly more humorous approach to life. But also, I realized today that I think in words (unfortunately those words are in English) and through writing those things I feel some kind of inner release that I believe is crucial for my human functioning. So I shall continue to think about things.

I went swimming today. It’s a gorgeous clear blue sky poofy clouds kind of day. As I walked, I frequently craned my head up to look at the sky. In doing so, I was constantly reminded of Jimmy. I don’t know how much I’ve talked about Jimmy on this blog, but I know he has been mentioned. Jimmy’s been missing for nearly 3 weeks. At first, I wasn’t too bothered or upset about it, because he would often go off gallivanting for 1, 2, sometimes 3 days. I think by the time it was nearing a week is when I started to feel the off-ness of the absence.

There was a mixed feelings kind of vibe to Jimmy’s disappearance. On the one hand, he gave us a lot to clean up and a lot to worry about with his vulnerable health situation. Perhaps this is why in the first few days, it felt a bit like a relief. On the other hand sits Jimmy’s stellar companionship. He is, in fact, more of a dog than a cat. He exhibits almost none of the aloofness characteristic of most felines. He will very purposefully jump onto nearly anyone’s lap with the intention to secure himself a comfortable seat to groom himself for the next 20 minutes. Or just to sit and look around with his paw on your hand. He let me give him hugs, and sometimes gave hugs himself, and when he sat on my lap he’d often stretch his neck up so that his forehead could meet my chin. He was very expressive in his acts of affection, and they were felt. Sometimes, I’d keep him company in the courtyard. I’d look down at him from the balcony to see him, oblivious to my presence, craning his neck up to the sky and keenly observing everything around him. That’s why I was reminded of him today.

Picture of Jimmy from last year, when he was smaller. Doing that neck-craning thing of his.

I am sorry, to both you and myself, for the grief-strickenness of my recent posts. I can’t help it! This is happening and I am feeling it. This one though, I’m not sure how to let go of. There’s a nagging uncertainty to my favourite cat’s disappearance, this absolute unknowing of where he’s gone, if indeed he has gone somewhere, and a refusal to acknowledge a possible darker reality to what’s happened. It’s been three weeks, and I’ve been going about my stuff pretty much as normal, but when I stop and pay attention to the very tangible absence I am aware of at home everyday, I realize I’m carrying a largely unacknowledged grief around with me everywhere.

It strikes me just how much of this all of us are doing. A girl in one of my classes struck up conversation with my friend and I the other day. She doesn’t seem to have a lot of friends, and it seemed like she was really trying. I had thus far found her to be slightly strange, but in that short conversation I discovered that the reason she took a few semesters off recently was because she had a baby. I didn’t even know she was married. Somehow, and this probably has way more to do with me than her, my whole perception of her changed. Within the same exchange, she told me that because of her current friendlessness, she sits back in class during breaks to talk to the teacher. The teacher of this particular class is also one I can hardly stand, and whose teaching is objectively subpar. She cancelled a class last week, and this girl told us that the reason she did this was because she was diagnosed with breast cancer and had an appointment in a different city. Suddenly I see this woman entirely differently, and admiring her for her stoicism.

Why do I admire her stoicism? In other words, why do I admire her putting on a brave face, not letting on to her students what she’s currently struggling through? I suppose if we all did that, everyone would be crying all the time. But there’s power in acknowledgment, and my guess is that we each have different ways of seeking that acknowledgment, the being ‘seen’.

Also while swimming today, I saw a girl I recognized as bohri - I have a tendency to remember faces. There was a moment in which we were in close proximity for a few minutes, and I contemplated making conversation. I mulled over what I might say in my head, waited for an opportune split second eye contact. It didn’t happen, and she exited the scene. I saw her, but I didn’t acknowledge this fact. This was a missed connection. I acknowledged the power I had/did not exercise in that situation. She has no idea I’m sitting here thinking and writing about her.

Throughout all of this, I consciously reminded myself to be present for all of it. The words ‘pay attention’ kept coming up. I noticed the sadness I felt being reminded of Jimmy, what it feels like to miss someone’s presence, human or animal. The other day, leaning over my balcony without a Jimmy there, I became aware of this being my little reality here on Earth - another subject of my fascination lately: so many people here on this planet, looking out over a different physical and emotional landscape every day of their lives. As I walked back to my car, I looked up at the sky again. It is possible to be sad at the same time as it is possible for it to be a beautiful day.