It's Not How Well the Dog Dances

Goodbyes

1 March, 2024

About three months ago we had to say goodbye to our cat Piklz. I have a bunch of things that I need to write but her death has somehow just been blocking me up, and I kept thinking that if I just gave it time I would have enough distance to compose something meaningful.

Well, distance schmistance. The day doesn’t go by when I don’t think of her, and all too often what I think of is the day I held her in my arms while the life left her. It’s not a great memory to have so close at hand, especially not when there are so many wonderful ones. Why don’t I think of her bushing up and attacking the mirror cat, or walking back and forth next to me after I get in the bed, or rolling up the stairs while I pet her?

I think there is something human maybe about wanting to experience the sadness, the agony over and over again. I think maybe the returning to the last moment I had with her feels like I could somehow rewind from there and then she would be again — hopping down the stairs with both front paws, excited to see us and get some petting as we come in the door. Or even just that reliving that moment of loss makes me feel closer to her.

Shit this is hard to write.

You know what I don’t get, it’s that Piklz is hardly the first wonderful cat we’ve said goodbye to. Kim and I have had three before her and each one of them was excellent and wonderful and unique, and they all died and left us grieving. But I didn’t mourn them the way I am mourning her. She was a special cat, it is true, but you move on, right?

OK there is a point to this and it’s not just me being sad about my cat. At least I think there is a point.

I think that as I get older maybe I have less tolerance for loss. Is that possible? You would think I should be inured to it, hardened with calluses. But I think it’s the opposite. I think each day starts to seem precious, each experience, each moment with people and animals and things that we love. I think I’m slowly becoming aware that there is a finite supply of these things and that one day there will not be any more. So a loss hits me harder because I know I’ll never have that again and I know it was a very special thing.

Soon it’s going to be time to get another cat. I look forward to it with joy and anticipation, even though I know what I’m in for down the road. So I guess that means I want the experience, even if it’s painful when it ends.

Goodbye, Piklz. We love you.

Vaccination And Air Travel

6 April, 2021

Yesterday I bought the first airline tickets I have willingly bought since COVID. I say “willingly” because I did take one one-way flight from Bangor to Philadelphia back in October to deal with getting our house there ready to sell… our klutzy painters had not just locked themselves out of the house but broken the front door lock in the process. The locksmith’s recommendation was to break the door and replace it; I had to explain that that was not an option because the door cost $4500 to custom build.

Yes, $4500. Our house in Philadelphia was in a historic district. If you’ve ever had the misfortune to live in a historic district, you know what I’m talking about.

BUT I digress. I bought airline tickets, or actually re-bought them, to get us to the BVI to go sailing with Kim’s dad Ron on this lovely boat:

Confetti departing Bermuda, November 2019

The saga of Confetti is quite something. It was badly damaged in Hurricane Irma in the BVI, but fortunately not sunk unlike so many other beautiful boats there. Ron and his boat partner Scott had it shipped (yes, you can ship boats, weird huh?) to Jamestown, R.I. for a complete refit, which took until the late summer of 2019, and we then sailed it back to the BVI via Bermuda. Our plan was to fly with Ron and his wife Claire back to the BVI in March 2020 to spend a couple weeks really enjoying the boat following this very expensive refit.

Oops.

So you can imagine that I was pretty pleased to turn our Jet Blue travel credit from March 2020 into actual tickets to San Juan, P.R. for May. Obviously, we are extremely lucky to be doing all of this — lucky the state of Maine and Northern Light Health have their acts together with vaccine distribution, lucky there are vaccines at all, lucky the BVI is even allowing people in… the list goes on.

(I’ll just note here that although you can indeed ship a boat, you cannot boat a ship. Odd.)

Anyway the resumption of travel, for us at least, seems like a pretty big deal. There was a while when I wondered if we would ever travel again at all. Now I guess I am more confident that we will, slowly, although I don’t think I want to go back to the frenetic pace we were at before. I’d much rather sit here and look at the harbor. Here’s another view:

Because 4 Moves In 3 Years Wasn’t Enough

5 April, 2021

We like it here in Camden so much we’ve decided to move. Again. Not away from Camden, to a bigger condo in our same complex. Why would we do this? Well, I blame myself, mostly, although of course Zillow plays a big part in it. But no seriously since we’re both working from home, we find we would like a bit more space so that we’re not quite so keenly aware of everything each of us is doing all the time. Heh. Apparently I make quite a lot of noise as I go about my day.

Anyway so we’re moving to a place with this view, which is not all that different from the view we currently have, only bigger:

It also has offices for each of us and a place to put the piano, which is currently in storage in Philadelphia. In fact it is the last thing I own in Philadelphia which also feels a bit surreal but that’s life in the pandemic I suppose.

What’s really great about the new place though is that it hasn’t been touched, or really even lived in very much, since it was originally commissioned around 1985. Yes, the Reagan years. Walking in is very much like stepping onto the set of Family Ties, had it been set in coastal Maine rather than central Ohio. The decoration includes treasures like this lovely kitchen:

Yes, that is green Formica, and a down-draft Jennair cooktop. The giant “hood” over the range is strictly for show, or for whacking your noggin on. I remember very well when these appliances were top-drawer, back when I was in high school. You may also note, if you look carefully, an actual “kitchen phone” complete with touch tone keypad and a very long cord to get twisted and tangled as you walk around the kitchen with the handset cradled between your head and your left shoulder.

Anyway it’s all got to go, of course. This time I will not try to do it all myself, I have learned my lesson… although these photos from 2005 make it seem like I was having a good time. Wish I had taken more of them, maybe I will this time.

Wish us luck. We close May 8, if not before. Going on the market this week is our current place, which is turn-key ready and the last harbor view for sale in Camden. I predict it will sell quickly.