Lifting Isaac

The last time I lifted Isaac was one year ago this morning.  Rhya, his veterinarian, had moments earlier administered the shot that would render him unconscious but not stop his heart.  "This will sting," she warned Matissta and me, and sure enough, Isaac darted out of my lap when Rhya jabbed him.  He scampered into the kitchen and then sauntered to one of the legs of the piano bench and methodically sharpened his front claws.  Seconds later he headed toward the Christmas tree that always fascinated him and lost his footing.  I reached down and lifted him up into my arms; into the rocket ship that I had promised would carry him to the place where he would finally get his very own blue shoes.

Two days earlier, unsure of my decision to euthanize Isaac, I had emailed two people: Carolyn and my therapist.  Carolyn responded:

I want to write you more beautiful words, as others have done.  But, I know that my input is sorely needed from a more clinical point of view . . . .

Isaac has chronic renal failure which isn't all that unusual in a cat of his age.  He drinks a lot because it's impossible for his kidneys to process enough fluid to keep his body in a healthy state.  He drinks and the liquid races through him offering little or nothing in the way of hydration.  The constant drinking and subsequent urination causes a drastic reduction in the electrolytes in his blood stream.  His muscles ache.  He feels general discomfort.  Toxins build, and with that comes waves of nausea and occasional vomiting.  Kidney problems, whether it be stones or inflammation or infection are generally extremely painful -- but it's in the feline nature to hide pain until they are very near death.  When Isaac is around you, he can sometimes shake off his malaise enough to make you question your decision to euthanize.  In actuality, he is withering away more each day.

Whenever you say that you want a clear sign that it's time to euthanize Isaac, I understand what you mean.  But, my dear friend, that's not what you want.  This disease sometimes progresses, toward the end, in one sudden swoop -- and the suffering endured in the absolute end stage of chronic renal failure is profound and agonizing, and that you would never be able to forget.  By euthanizing now, you are sparing Isaac that final, horrific stage.

I know that Isaac would know what to do, given the opportunity to comfort you.  And, perhaps that's what he's doing now, with all of the lap time and constant purring and enjoyment of the Christmas tree.  I think that he senses and witnesses your pain and knows that it's connected to his illness.  His love for you has been boundless and unencumbered by all the petty stuff we humans inject.  You've returned that love, always, perhaps now more than ever before, by allowing him to leave you in a humane way.

My therapist wrote:

Isaac has depended on you, these years, for life, love and joy (and for chasing/retrieving aluminum foil balls).  Now he depends on you to let him go from that in the knowledge that you will be OK when he's gone.  He has a strong spirit, even as his body fails, and will take that spirit with him along with all the love the two of you have shared.  Without the energy drain to keep his body going when it wants to less and less, his spirit will soar and he will be free.  He needs you to do this for him so he does not have to wait for every bodily function to slowly drain away.  It is your last gift to him.  He has already gifted you with being the greatest kitty -- little boy -- dog cat to purr through your life.

Be well.  Let others hold you through this sad time.

After lifting Isaac for the last time, I went to the sofa, cradled him on my lap atop his favorite white towel, Matissta on my left and Rhya on my right.  While Isaac was in deep sleep, I read aloud the following prayer:

Ever living, ever loving God, in our beloved Isaac we have seen some of your many faces and heard some of your many voices; most lovingly, a purr that is never ending.  Now in the moment of Isaac's death, receive his spirit on eagle's wings.  Lift the spirit of this sweet creature to the heavens.

Our dear Karen, Kathy, Agnes, Al, Frankie, Sienna, Flannery and Parson Brown -- all witnesses today in the presence of the Lord of the Dance -- may your spirits dance with our dear, sweet boy, Isaac.  Dance, sweet Isaac, dance.  Look at you!  Our handsome boy.  Look at you!  Dancing in the presence of the Lord and all our beloveds.  With thanks to God, we lift you up.

Moments after administering the second shot that stopped Isaac's heart, Rhya whispered, "He's gone."  His body limp, his eyes vacant, Isaac had indeed left this sweet world.

Babysis once told me that we all die the way we have lived. "If you had a miserable life, you'll have a miserable death.  If you've had a good life, you'll have a good death," she said.  A year after making the decision to euthanize Isaac, then celebrating his life for a week here in the sassosphere and finally, on the day before he died, articulating his voice, I am thankful to have given Isaac a death befitting the life he lived. 

Today, on the first anniversary of his death, I am dismantling the altar area I cobbled together to hallow his remains and to celebrate his life.  Once again, I am letting go.  I am lifting Isaac.

Pictured above is a neon sculpture I commissioned to honor Isaac's life.  It continues to light up the darkness.

Comments

[Carolyn]

...and I become undone.

[Flannista]

A year ago today, I stopped combing my hair.

[Flannista]

Waking up in Orlando was not how I imagined I would begin this anniversary. Flying always makes me feel vulnerable and already I’ve had to dab the tears in my eyes and pratice a poker face. I had planned to spend the day in quiet after a brunching with Charlissta, (a great spiritual mother), but now will be assisting via phone TRM with this speech. Maybe that’s better. I don’t think so, given my atrocious plane-ma. Right now I feel myself bracing for a day of endurance rather than peace and quiet.

Better sharpen my claws.

[Flannista]

Our comments passed in the ‘sphere, Carolyn.

That you are up at this hour with me means much. As Chryso's presence last night.

Now I too am undone.

Again.

[Matissta]

Everyday, we miss him. He was a sweet boy.

[half-a-sista]

I still think of him in his blue spaceship exploring the Universe and, at the same time, in the hearts of everyone who loved him or who had met him.

[Jerseysista]

Maybe the best tribute to Isaac's love is that through you, Flann and Matiss, he is remembered by all of us with love.

[PEACEsista]

I look for all my departed beloveds in the face of the bright full moon. I have seen Isaac there. Dear friend, I wish you peace today. Whatever activity is needed, I hope that you can do it listening to the purr of your own tender heart and celebrating the gift of this fragile life, both Isaac's and yours.

[Flannista]

Matissta: you were Isaac’s best bud. Thank you.

[Flannista]

half-a-sista: what a loving and patient caregiver you were to him. I have the photo you took of him here in my office.

[Flannista]

Jersey: thank you for remembering Isaac with love.

[Flannista]

PEACE: I will look for the moon tonight and listen to the purr of my heart. Thank you for your beautiful sentiment.

[Flannista]

I am inconsolable since walking into my home.

The moment of Isaac’s death was 10:56 a.m. a year ago. I plan to sit in peace and quiet through that moment. If you’re in a place to do so, pause and use that moment to say thanks for all the beloveds in your life who love you well and tenderly.

[PEACEsista]

I will be sitting with you at 10:56.

[Flannista]

Thank you, PEACEsista.

[frida]

Okay, I will...and I hope you may find consolation...in the sun today.

[Metamo]

In your lifting Isaac, Flannista, you lift us, you raise our consciousness of compassion and love for all creatures. You need no other reason, there is no greater gift. Thank you.

[babysis]

Lifting you up, but also feeling lifted up by this beautiful post and comments. There is light after darkness.

[Chrysosistah]

You two were a great match, and gave each other inexpressible comfort, joy and love. What a lovely gift.

[Flannista]

An email from Becky and David, who last week let go of Munchkin:

*****
Sharing your sorrow...remembering Isaac, Munchkin, Calico, Flannery, Bilbo - our furry companions who took pieces of our hearts with them.

Thank you for your post today - it helps me know we made the right decision for Munchkin, too.
*****

[Flannista]

A card found in my front door from Jersey:

*****
I remember.

Isaac is not forgotten.

I love you.

J.
*****

[Flannista]

A card from Charlissta with the inscription: “May you serve Wisdom in the ordinary and extraordinary moments of your life,” to which she added her own message:

*****
Dear One

I am remembering Isaac and aware that this mighty spirit continues to dwell in your heart – even as his spirit soars.

May your relationship with him – past and present – serve both love and wisdom.

Love you, Charlissta
*****

[Flannista]

A card from PEACEsista that just arrived in the mail (on the front, a drawing of a cat walking in the light of a moon with a cat face):

*****
Dear Flannista,

Remembering your loss of dear Isaac one year ago . . . and wishing you deep peace and special blessings for this holiday season.

Much love,
PEACEsista
*****

[Flannista]

At lunchtime today, Charlissta shared with me the results of an experiment in which participants were asked about an object, “Is it matter or is it light?” If the participants wanted the object to be matter, it was matter. If they wanted it to be light, it was light. How it happened, she didn’t know. It was a complete mystery. “There are energies beyond us – way out there – that we can’t begin to comprehend,” she said.

She shared this in response to my observation that the first anniversary of Isaac’s loss was particularly heartbreaking because I had also chosen to let go of most of my blood family this year. Unlike most of them, Isaac did not demand a relationship on his terms. We had one on our terms (as Chryso so sweetly commented). There is some way that Isaac’s spirit buffered me from the small and hurtful ways some members of my family abandoned me and/or continued to demand a relationship on their terms. He helped me to bear contact with them. He was a place to return to; to rest, to feel loved unconditionally. When he left, I was left with no buffer. I saw clearly how little my family wanted a relationship based on mutual sacrifices. “How can a small creature do that?” I asked. “His final down turn began the last time I saw my blood family . . . that awful August 1, 2008 reunion. How was he connected to that? It’s almost like E.T. and Elliot. That’s so weird. It’s like Isaac became some force of nature or something.”

Charlissta then told me about matter and light and energies beyond our capacity to comprehend.

All to say, the force is profound and beyond my ability to understand.

[Momista]

Dear Flann--my thoughts and prayers are with you today. We do not forget those whom we have loved, but relish our memories. Be mindful of the many years of joy he gave you.