Friend

Last night, inexplicably and without warning, Scout died. I could write an entire post about how much I loved my cat and how shocked and upset I was last evening, but I won't. For those of you who have loved a pet, you already understand. For those of you who aren't animal lovers, there is nothing I can say that will help you understand.

What I want to write about this morning is about who I called first. In my panic, my unbelief at what had happened, while uncontrolably sobbing, I called J. "I need your help," I sobbed. He was calm, he was understanding, he was reassuring. He would come immediately. "Don't bring LM," I said, "he doesn't need to witness this." In that breath and many to follow I was ever so grateful that last night LM had been with his dad. J said he would call the neighbor to come sit with LM and he'd be at my door in 25 minutes. Would I be okay until then? Yes, I sobbed.

I called my sister next and she talked to me and calmed me down. Always my best friend, she let me cry and sob and grieve and get my wits about me enough to deal with finding a towel and a box and moving Scout. She wished she were here, although we both knew that if we actually lived closer, I would have begged for Bear to come and deal with the problem for me, which I know, without a doubt he would have done. But it was my beloved cat, and I had to deal with her death.

When J arrived I apologized for making him come all the way out to help me. He told me that it was fine, that's what he was there for. I said, "There is nothing in the divorce decree that says you have to come help me in my moments of crisis, it's not what ex-husbands are supposed to do." He said, "I'm not here as your ex-husband, I'm here as a friend. And this is what friends do."

And he is so right.

Friends give you hugs and hold you while you cry. Friends remind you that you have gone through this before and that you will come out on the other side of it. Friends take the cardboard box you place in their arms and promise to never tell you what they do with it, but that they will handle your pretty little girl with the utmost care and respect. And friends allow you the time to think of how exactly you will tell LM on Sunday night when he comes home.

For all the struggles I have with him, for all the times I wish he would jump in feet first into LM's life, J is a friend, and a good one indeed. While I do not understand why Scout had to suddenly leave me last night, if nothing else, I will never forget the friend who came to my door to help me deal with her death.

Thanks, J. You were my friend before you were my husband, and you have remained to be even after.