The Gift of Our Co-worker

April 16, 2017 Easter Sunday, this was the day my dad passed and all I could do was stand there and watch. He had come home from the hospital and was placed into hospice after battling with COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease) and memory loss. A man of old, my father had always been strong and protective, a leader, my hero; how fragile he seemed laying there taking his last labored breaths.

I had always seen him as a fighter, battling anything that came against him with courage and wisdom. Odd as it seemed, this day was no different. He was still my hero. A true hero not only knows how to battle the storms, but also when to rest when the storm is over.

When his eyes closed, I called him softly as I did when I was a little girl.

“Daddy." I said it with the hope that he would hear me and swoop in and save the day. But deep down I knew that at this point, all he could do was take the love in the syllables of the way I said his name, and wrap it around him like a blanket as he made his journey.

"Daddy...."

That single phrase slipped through my lips and tears of acceptance slide down my face. My hero had fought his battle, had won, and now it was time for him to lay down his sword and rest.

Losing a person you love is never easy. Even when we all share the knowledge of the ache of that loss, it is still hard to explain. How do you explain vacancy, that deep void that can never be filled, how do you teach yourself how to operate when your world feels completely different, completely void of what you have always known?

You feel strong, you feel weak, you feel in control, yet you are completely out of control. You say to yourself that you must carry on; but you find that it is hard for you to take one step. You need sleep, you can’t sleep, and when you do, out of pure exhaustion, the pressure from the weight of the loss causes you to grieve in slumber.

In sleep, you feel your tears once again run a gentle marathon down the curve of your face; no finish line and no reward. When you open your eyes, the realization of the nightmare embraces you like an old friend you wish you never had to see again.

Not another day of this...

Love is all around you, but where do you find comfort when you need to see the innocence of what was lost?

You search for it, but that comfort you need is just out of reach… and then… a miracle happens...

An avid animal lover, we always had dogs as pets. Furry loyal friends who came when you called them, were excited when you smiled, and consoling when you cried. When my childhood pet died, I just didn’t think to get another one. Who could replace my Benji? A beautiful German shepherd that protected me from the time I was seven into my late twenties. I loved all animals, but Benji was special, and I couldn’t see myself replacing him. In all these years I haven’t, but Midnight had other plans.

Two months after my Dad died four fluffy bundles of fur appeared one day in my back yard out from the corner of the little guest house. There were three the color of an obsidian sky, and one fluffy grey one. They were kittens and a neighborhood stray must have found a home in the back of the guest house.

All of them were curious and hungry, but only one was brave enough to come investigate the bowl of food I held out before him.

He was cautious, but adventurous, and as soon as I saw him - I recognized that brave spirit.

He stepped forward and led the way for his siblings to realize that no one would hurt them here. He knew that there was understanding and love and was the first to peep out every day to receive food and coos of adoration. Shinier and with an even more intense shade of rich dark fur, I named him Midnight.

He was as beautiful and mysterious as the name implied. He was also devilish and had an independent mind of his own. Two of his siblings soon found loving homes but Midnight, and Fluffy, his grey coated sister wanted to be keepers of our back yard.

Fluffy was more cautious and tended to stay outside, but Middles (Midnight’s nickname) must have sensed that I needed a co-worker to support me as I got the family home in order after my dad’s passing. He would scratch on the door politely letting me know he was reporting to duty, after I gave him his employee breakfast special of course.

He kept me company while boxes were packed and stored and had the most adorable way of touching me with one of his paws and singing a soft meow of concern when I felt sad.

I bathed both him and his sister Fluffy during the winter and brought them inside, but as soon as the budding of spring appeared they were back outside protecting the perimeter.

Fluffy had outside adventures to attend to, but Middles was reporting to work for his breakfast or lunch, and then a survey of the house and every family member to make sure all was well. If another cat dared enter the premises or tried to attack Fluffy, Midnight was to the rescue. Bodyguard, wellness counselor, smile generator, and private detective. Midnight took all of his jobs seriously and was always at work on time. He was a source of joy and motivation and whenever my mind wandered to the loss we had suffered, he would sing his song of meows and do his crazy back pose to get my mind in a better place.

If a co-worker is your partner in completing the duties of the job, then midnight definitely fit the job description. You never knew what he was going to do next; including sharing his snack with you. Out on an adventure in the nearest alley, Middles used his tracking skills to find two culprits. He wanted to make sure that everyone knew he was on the job.

Scratch, scratch, tap, tap, his usual knock for reporting to work. The door was opened and in he came, proud and excited to say good morning. He stopped and looked up waiting for the obvious question to be asked.

“Middles, what is that in your mouth?” His mouth looked funny, it was full of something, but he had not eaten his dish of food yet.

I didn’t have to wait long for an answer. Tumbling out of his mouth was a small mouse and an even smaller baby mouse! The screams of disgust, he couldn’t understand. He seemed to look as though he didn’t know what the problem was.

What was wrong?

He wanted his praise for a job well done. Ever the protector, he felt if he had eliminated the potential intruders of the perimeter, then why all the fuss? He casually picked them back up and strolled out of the house with his tail held high. How dare we refuse his offerings!!

Needless to say, from that day forward, whatever he tracked and killed outside, stayed outside. He definitely took overachiever to a new level. But he was loved and he basked in that knowledge.

It is funny how we as humans see ourselves as the caregivers and motivators or protectors of the animals or pets in our environment. But I wonder do we ever truly appreciate how much they enhance our lives and work with us to bring out the innocent beauty of the day. Despite his lunch sharing event, I truly appreciated and saw the supporter and friend this little ball of life showed up to be everyday, no raise needed, no overtime calculated…

Fluffy, his sister, came to the door with him one day asking to come in. She rarely followed Middles example of coming into the house as she was more independent and liked her life outdoors more than inside. Her midsection was swollen and distended and we knew this meant that she was to become a mother before we could get her in to be spayed. This day, Fluffy wanted to be with the family. It was time for her to give birth. We made a safe place for her, and in a few days we heard the slight mewling of three kittens. We made them comfortable and cared for them and Fluffy until they were old enough for us to help them find homes.

Middles watched over this new situation with a careful eye. We were not sure, but he didn’t look too pleased with the new employees that had shown up unexpectedly. He didn’t care if he was their uncle, why were they here?

He was patient, but moody. This was his territory. They were all gray and white like their mother, and what we assumed to be their dad, a grey and white striped male cat that loved to be around Fluffy.

They were playful and vivacious, but there was one little gray and white one with a mole next to her nose that refused to be stopped from exploring her surroundings. We’d made them a soft place in the attic, but this little one refused to be limited from her explorations. Barely a little over a month old and she was taking charge of the situation.

She was adventurous and sassy and didn’t let the disapproving looks of her uncle Middles stop her from learning from him and looking around his territory. Midnight was patient, but annoyed and this little one, who we eventually named Gabriella (Gabby), didn’t care one bit.

She was alive and playful and often left her more tenacious siblings behind while she went exploring. She wanted a job too, and little or not, she was determined to have one. Protector, entertainer, or company keeper, she was ready for the interview…

One day Middles came to work asking for a sick day. He wanted to stay, but he could only lie down and go to the litter box provided for him. He wasn’t acting his invigorated self. My family and I let him rest; and he would not leave my side. We hoped that he would improve, but he seemed to become less energetic. A trip to the vet showed he was a little depressed by all the changes and needed to be hydrated because he wasn’t eating or drinking much.

Two weeks of undivided attention and the meds the doctor gave us had him feeling better, but not well. He perked up one week and got worse the next. He came to the side of my bed one morning and touched me with his paw like he used to when I was sad. This time he was telling me he was sad and not any better.

Another vet trip and testing gave us the results that Middles had some genetic problems and his organs were failing. The prescription for this was to put him down, as even if they did surgery, he still would not make it. My heart was broken. Not Middles too! He was my little helper, my adventurer. He came out of nowhere and brightened the day when I least expected it. I asked the doctor was he sure, couldn’t I just take him home and let it happen naturally. I could do that, but he would only suffer more.

He was left with me and my younger sister so we could say goodbye. He could only lie on the table taking shallow breaths and looking at me.

I knew I had to be strong for him and tell him how special he was to all of us. How we loved him and we believe our father sent him to us to get us through his passing. I told him he was the best cat and we loved spending every moment with him. I told him I would not leave him and I would stay with him throughout the whole procedure. I talked to him as the doctor gave him the shot and told him how much I loved him. He curled his paw on the table like he used to when I cooed to him when he was well and ready for action. His eyes dilated and then he was gone.

Death has a way to sneak up on you when you least expect it. You have to embrace the love you share with everything you love because days can turn into minutes and then to seconds in an instant. The pain of losing Middles joined with the pain of losing our dad, and my younger sister and I cried uncontrollably.

The poor vet didn’t know what to do but give us the privacy to let go of what we felt.

We felt we had to be so strong, we felt that if we didn’t fully grieve our dad, then it was like he wasn’t really gone. We cried when no one was around when our father died, but tried to be strong overall. The grief never really found freedom to just be, until then.

As we looked at our Middles silent and still, we saw our dad all over again and felt the loss of them both. It was as though Middles gave us permission to really grieve. It was ok to feel the loss and process the pain so we could heal with the love we shared with both of them; one our beloved father, the other a friend that had become a part of the family.

Middles was our co-worker to the very end. He helped us to work through our grief, and showed us that we could smile again. He will always be in our hearts.

Our dad is our heart, and it is ok to let him be free to show us that he is a part of us, though he is gone….

Just as we believe that our dad sent us Middles, Middles left us a gift as well. Gabby’s siblings were placed in a loving home, but just like Midnight, she wanted to stay with us. She wanted to work with us as we traveled on the road to healing. I see Middles in the way she looks at us for approval, or the way she sits by my mother when she feels that she is sad and missing my dad. I see her making us smile when she flips and runs doing acrobatics worthy of a world famous gymnast, or the way she curls into a sleeping position making us forget just how devilish she is.

Our furry friends are our co-workers, they help us to work our way through the challenges and sorrows of life. They teach us to come back to the basics: love is a life force that only knows living. There is no death in that-we should rejoice in it and know that whomever we have shared love with – lives in us always.

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Thank you for reading my EmPAWyee entry. I hope you enjoyed my tales of Midnight and Gabby and coping with grief when it strikes unexpectedly. Please click the heart if you feel inclined and subscribe. I wish you love and gentle healing always.