In this farewell
There's no blood
There's no alibi
'cause I've drawn regret
From the truth of a thousand lies.

So let mercy come
And wash away
What I've done.
I'll face myself
To cross out what I've become
Erase myself
And let go of what I've done

Put to rest
What you thought of me
While I clean this slate
With the hands
Of uncertainty.

For what I've done
I start again
And whatever pain may come
Today this ends
I am forgiving what I've done.

(Linkin Park, What I've Done)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oI8h9Wf7LjU

Immortality and other life dilemmas

Until I was like 22-23 I thought I was immortal. I was having this overwhelming feeling that, if I decide to sit on the rails before the train, something would happen and the train would not reach me. It was the same for everything else - we were living suspended in time, in a world of young, healthy adults.

Then, my first boss died. I still remember the smell of a dead body, that too sweet odor of rotting flesh. I suddenly came to incorporate a new concept - never. I was looking at him lying there, dead and pale, and it struck me - I will NEVER see him again. Until then, it sounded very vague... "never" meant sometime during the rest of my life, which was almost entirely in front of me. In this case, it was different - I was NEVER EVER going to see him again.

I started to grasp the idea of death and dying. But it was still happening outside my private garden. Those I love cannot be struck by death. They are, like me, immortal. Just to disprove my theory (well, his heart condition contributed a lot also), my grandfather died. I was NEVER going to see him again, but this time it was a painful never. And I started to fear death ... not in an obsessive way, but as a steady presence in a corner of my mind - we all die, one die I will die. I should do my best to avoid it.

I lived the last years fearing mortality and having this secret hope that my grandpa's death was an accident, that dying is something that happens eventually. Which is, actually, but that eventually is not suspended in time but actively coming towards us, towards me. I didn't want to get old, I didn't want to die. And I wanted to keep the ones I love around, for as long as I live. And then... then we can all go. But not before, that NEVER is not going to happen to me again.

I idiotically believed Tofa can't die. It was not as it's supposed to be, the kind and loved ones have to live. Death is an undeserved punishment, so it can't happen to her. It did. But her last gift to me was this - I don't want to be immortal anymore. I don't like the idea of dying, but now I somehow realized that I will die, that the day is coming, and I do not fear it anymore. Who the fuck wants to live forever, and keep losing the ones around him, over and over again?

There is no beauty in death, but it is even less in living and losing what you love. Wait for me in the dogs' Heaven, Tofa. If there has to be a Heaven, then dogs are fully worth of it. It might take some time, but one day I will come to meet you. I wouldn't want to stay in a world that will NEVER have you back.

Wait for me, at the other end of the rainbow.

What do you do when you are in pain? Do you cease any form of regular life, or you keep moving and breathing like before, doing all the small gestures you used to do, continuing the daily routine?

What do you do when you feel guilty? Unforgivably guilty for the death of someone you love? For the death of somebody who died (like she lived) waiting for you? Do you still drink your daily coffee, surf the web and wait for the funerals? Pain does not freeze you, death does not freeze the universe. Everything else keeps moving and you keep moving. You cry and you move. In the same day your dearest one died, you eat and drink water and breath as usual. You are alive.

She died today. Yesterday actually, around 7 am. They couldn't tell me the exact hour of death. She was "the dog with diabetes". She was Tofa, but not for them. For me, she was the only Tofa that has ever existed or ever will. She died waiting for me to come home. And I haven't, I planned the trip for the coming Wednesday. I didn't think that death can wait, I simply excluded death from any calculations. Forgivable? Maybe, if I were in my 20s. But I am a 34 yrs old adult. I should have known, I should have listened, I should have thought.

It's strange how we lose the pain through words. We talk about one thing and pain exhales, it gets out of you like through some word-shaped pores. So I will talk about Tofa, pushing the pain out. In the end, pain does not matter - I am alive. But even if this blog has only one more reader, then somebody else will hear about her.

(RIP. Tofa: Feb/Mar 1998 - Feb. 21, 2009)

I found her 11 years ago - April 30, 1998. She was a small puppy and I took her home, for a portion of milk. I thought I'd take her back on the street, where I found her. I didn't, I couldn't. She started to count on me and I couldn't let her down. I did it after, I did it now - she waited for mommy to come till her last breath. It didn't happen.

She stayed with us - she learnt not to pee in the house, then I tried to teach her not to chew my perfumes and books but she kept "reading" and "sniffing". She took my moods without a blink - she loved me like only dogs can do. Me as I am, without any mask, with all my defects. I loved her back, I loved her from all my heart, but I was offering her so little, comparing to what I could have... I always thought there is time. Not true, our time together ended and I cannot keep any of my promises.

For a few good years, she's been living with my grandmother and another dog. I left my home country and I left both of them there. From the 5 dogs I had (6 actually, but one stayed with my ex), I took 3 with me, and 2 I left with my grandmother - the smallest, nicest, sweetest ones, Tofa and Ugly. I missed them a lot, but I couldn't find a solution - I can barely afford the 3 dogs I have with me, and nobody else would hold these 3 (for very objective reasons, they are kind as crocodiles to any stranger, be it dog or human). So I made the most rational choice - I left the 2 nice ones in the care of my grandma and I took the 3 big bad ones with me.

Tofa stayed. She had what she needed and she was loved - but mommy wasn't there, and she was always waiting. I was going home every 3-6 months and she was SO happy... An old dog re-becoming a puppy, playing and jumping like a little deer. You were so gracious, so beautiful... my dear, dear Tofa.

About one year ago, we discovered she had diabetes. We started to give her insuline, changed her diet... she seemed to be ok. But she was not neutered and it was impossible to have any surgery untill the blood-sugar level was stable. About one month ago, she started to be on heat. And from there on, everything went crazy - her body wasn't taking the insuline anymore. She stopped eating and she was fed through perfusions for about 10 days. I knew her state, but I planned the trip for Wednesday. What is to be forgiven here? Objective reasons? None should have mattered, my girl was dying... while I was thinking she is just having a bad episode. Not because I was not informed, but because I ... I simply couldn't see her dying.

She was my first dog, to me she was eternal. My mind couldn't grasp the idea that one day Tofa will die. She did, and I still find it surreal. I can't believe that she is not in the same world with me.

I'm sorry, baby. I am so sorry... forgive me, I know you can. I am sorry for all the long walks I promised you but never had time to make them, for all the love you invested in me and I couldn't return it as you deserved. I am so sorry I was not near you, to help you pass into the other world, to hold your paw and tell you mommy will always love you. Forgive me, my dearest, dearest creature. I won't forgive myself, but who cares? I am alive, while you are not.

Forgive me and wait for mommy for one more time, at the other end of the rainbow.