companionship
As I sit here looking at Rocco, I’ve got tears in my eyes. He’s been observing me the last couple of days, checking out my stuff and taking an occasional lap to wherever I am before returning to his orthopedic bed.
It’s clear that he’s an old man, I can see it in his eyes and in the way his body moves. He’s big and hairy and calm and gentle.
When I arrived a couple days ago, literally upon walking through the door, he heaved his hundred pound body into my lap, wrapped his legs around my waist and licked and licked and licked and laid his big head in my lap.
“He doesn’t do this,” she said, and tried to capture it but he kept moving and licking. I really don’t do this either and would normally push him away, but there was something different and genuine about his interaction with me.
This morning he came into my room and sniffed around before plopping his big body on the pillow that traveled fifteen hundred miles with me.
The same pillow Morris would lay against and occasionally on top of.
The same pillow I asked mom if I could have in 2009, stuffed in my suitcase and took to Brooklyn because I wanted floor seating options in my apartment.
The same pillow I transported to my casita in 2012 and began using in front of my altar in 2013. I always thought I’d upholster it with beautiful fabric. It could still happen.
Now he’s moved just outside my door. I think he knows what I need.
The presence of energy. The kind that understands, doesn’t drain, simply is.
As I left the house last week, we hugged and kissed and I told him that I loved him. I said I’d stay in regular touch. Daily, I’d text daily. He said, “That might be too much.” We laughed as tears were being shed.
In our house, we often sit in close proximity to each other with our iPads and coffee occasionally commenting on whatever we’re reading. We’ll sit at the table and talk and talk and talk over dinner about the details of our days and what’s going on within the contours of our hearts.
He’s kind, honest, attentive and funny as fuck. The kind of funny that I wish mom was here to experience because she would totally get it too.
He allows me to be exactly who I am at all times. He accepts all sides of me in any condition — wailing on the floor in tears, cranky and chaotic after a twelve hour day at work, sick and stuffy with tissue hanging out of my nose, well and full of energy ready for the journey ahead.
He accepts all my sides regardless of where he is — seven, twelve, fifteen or three. He’s capable of digging in and showing up, with love and a true desire to support me as best he can.
The place where I struggle a lot is commitment. How much am I willing to make to anyone, anything or any place?
Forever? Yikes. For now? Sure. What about the space between for now and forever? I have no idea.
As a companion, I’m fiercely loyal, honest, supportive, open and loving. To partners, friends, colleagues and some animals (I’m really not a pet person).
In 2014, Morris appeared on what was an especially cold Thanksgiving. I gave him chunks of leftover ham in broth that I had warmed on the stove. He continued to come around for three full years, to the day. I didn’t own him, rather he allowed me to be his companion and returned the favor.
Arguably, I got more out of our relationship than he did. As heartbreaking as it is to no longer have him around in the fur, I’m incredibly grateful to have known him. I feel the same about mom.
Most everyone loves their mom and thinks she’s the best mom. But really truly, mine was. She totally got me. She gave the best advice. She knew what was best for me and guided me toward the types of choices I now struggle to make.
She never told me what to do, but rather helped me uncover the best path forward. She was an excellent life companion.
Rocco’s presence these last three days has already made an impact on me. Twinge, just now in my chest as I wrote those words. Most animals don’t have this effect on me. In fact, I usually don’t connect with animals the way people who love animals do.
It’s the very rare street cat or friend’s rescue dog (err, puppy saved from the side of the road whose original owner was never sought) that has the power. What am I supposed to learn from these connections? Mom, tell me please.