A Chunk Of The Window To My Heart

A Chunk of the Window to my Heart1

The sun was out the day he died, but it was raining. Maybe it was for all the tears I was about to cry after his burial? Or maybe the sky somehow sensed my heart break and shed the water that was going to come out of my eyes in sadness? The smell of the earth in my nose somehow put my mind at peace. It almost seemed like this tragedy never even really happened, the reality of it all was so hard to believe. I was just sitting on the steps outside to my house, looking up at the clouds. I could hear my mom rummaging around in the garden shed and my uncle with the sound of the shovel digging a grave into the ground.2

My cat, Jingles passed away at the end of June in the year 2007. When I was little I had once promised him that I would die when he died. Silly thing to say as a child, I know. But if you look at it in a certain way, I did die and I became someone else. Someone stronger. Then I started looking at death in a completely different way, like it seemed more important somehow. I cried for a couple days after he was gone. I kept thinking about how weak he was as I had lifted his lifeless body into a bigger box that day. I felt so empty, like a part of me would never be whole again. Sometimes I imagine I can see him at the top of my stairs waiting to greet me. The sound of his meow, the swishing of his tail...It was tough, losing the only real love of my life. A lot of people these days do not understand why one person like me could be so sad and depressed over a pet. To me he was so much more than that. The people who have not gone through what I have could not possibly realize just how hard it was for me to lose someone who meant so much to me. Like a part of my soul. The window to my heart with a big chunk of it missing. After the shock of my cats passing I went into what you could call a silent and almost stiff mode, like ice...No more tears, no more sadness, yet with the hurt still there and strong in my chest. Wanting to creep up my throat, past my nose, and out of my eyes once more. But I wouldn't let that happen anymore. I had to help not only myself get over it and move on, but also my mother as well who was just as heartbroken as I was. 3

I remember sitting in the dirt right next to his rhubarb plant that was beside his grave. My mother had made him a cross that had his name on it and a stone with the drawing of a heart colored in lying beneath that. I would spend hours out there by myself, asking the world why it had to take my baby away from me. I missed him so much at that time it was almost unbearable. But then I started to realize that there was no such thing as coincidences and that it had happened for a reason. He was meant to die and I was meant to go through this. I had never experienced a death in my life before and so I believe, that like everyone else, I was supposed to experience this too. In a funny way it made me actually grow up and become more mature. The more I thought about things, the more everything started to make sense in my mind. Although it is still rather hard to think of all the memories about Jingles today, he will always be remembered. Not only was he a loving cat but he was also my best friend. A smile is always brought up on my face whenever I think of him because I know, like all people say, that he has gone on to a better place. He is safe, in peace and no longer in any sort of pain. He always was and always will be a happy cat. Like white on rice, like Garfield to lasagna, like a fat boy on a cupcake we will always be together because the ones that love us never really leave us. And you can always find them in your heart. So I write this piece to my one and only.4

My one, my love, my everything.