It’s only been about a year, not even a full one, since the tragic death of his brother Rebel, a small year has passed since that unfortunate expiration that ballooned this hitherto baby cat into a true legend in the book of my life mostly because of the qualities I love and lack myself, like suppleness and grounded corporeality, a year of carefully tipping toes into each others unknown waters, understanding our impossibilities way better than anything out there worth chasing, but we tried anyway because we are connected forever, closely watching me wait by the backstage door, loyal and trustworthy, but slightly alienating, that too.
I so appreciate all the Safrans of this world, for they make up to be the better companions out there, precisely because they manifest where it hurts the most, with their awkward personas, still, undeniable, with a far less dominating presence, transcending any judgements made: how faultless this life would be if only left unmitigated, yet that’s what they do best, they mitigate.
There are no footsteps to follow, no thrones to succeed, a lesson I learned many lost loved ones ago: a victorious life embraces tragedy with matching intent.
I never worried about Safran’s ability to cope with the loss of his precious brother, but often wondered what it would eventually mean for our interdependence. Do I love this creature because he once had a fabulous brother? Has Rebel’s unfortunate faith settled any and all providence this way?
The answer, I’m sure, to these transcending questions lies in one of the more undefined moments we shared when he was up a tree and refused to come down, because inasmuch we were taking different trails and separate ways beckoned ferociously, but I was the one who could not let go.
Les Pierres’ veggie garden, carefully sealed off from all possible interference by Young Mec and thus the place to be for a cat that does not think highly of being wildly chased, has proved to be the matchless middle ground we both hold in high enough regard to forget.
True love always matters.