Not long ago, we brought in a neighbor's feral cats' kittens, so we could adopt them to a loving home. One of them ran right to me every time. Then, one day a few days after we brought him in, he lost his appetite. That night, he faded worse. The next day, he had lost all coordination and could not function. We took him to the vet, who said the prognosis was not good and essentially we should say our goodbyes. That night, little Batman was gone. It was devastating, even though we were only fostering this kitten on the way to someone else's house, even though we'd only known him a few days. It felt like I was losing another baby. I thought that one loss was bad. Then a bigger one hit me out of left field. Both of them brought back wayyy too much.
I was still reeling from burying a kitten when I got a phone call no one wants to get, that a good friend of my family, someone we had known for around 20 years and who had lived with us for a year at a time, was sick. Not just sick. She was sick with COVID and on a ventilator. Her COVID had triggered her diabetic reaction. They had her in a medically-induced coma. I hear ventilator, and my heart stops. The two comorbid illnesses together caused a stroke. Her family was told they'd have to let her go because she was totally unresponsive. Only the machines were keeping her alive. And in a land of surging COVID numbers, no one but family could attend her funeral.
It felt like 2010 all over again, when I was just reeling with the loss of my brother, who was not in my life at that moment and had less of an impact, when I learned my baby had been taken from me, had died in an accident. It was just too familiar. All those emotions started surging again. It was more of an echo of times past but still hard. My friend had been there for me, like a sister. Had watched movies with me, had been just a great person, saucy and strong. It felt like a punch to the gut. I know she's back with her parents again, but she was just too young, too vibrant, too alive. I still haven't processed it all, and dealing with this newer loss shows me I haven't even processed events of ten years ago entirely. I really can't imagine what 2030 will be like, but I think I'll spend the year hibernating.
