LEARNING TO LET GO

By Dara Pena

A story of love, loss and healing through the eyes of my child.

It was hard not to look away from his golden, sunshine eyes contrasting against his midnight fur. They say only dogs can really look into your eyes, but I disagree. My feline could gaze into my soul and know exactly what I was thinking. Even though I couldn’t talk to him and receive an answer, we still had a connection. It wasn’t my friends, my teachers or my parents, but it was him who taught me how to forgive.

Opening my eyes to a caliginous kitten on Christmas morning was a day I will never forget. His stance was tiny, but he was wild in nature; nothing could break his spirit. A sleek black coat wrapped around his body with sparse white hairs underneath his stomach. His slender tail always accompanied his tar colored paws. Of course, his eyes shined brighter than any Christmas lights ever could.

Named after the sixteenth president of the United States, Lincoln, he was an honest boy. If he became angry, I would surely know, for I would have a scratch or two planted on my arms. On occasion, I would have a raging puncture from his vigorous bite.

He always stayed outside, hunting and catching whatever he could sink his fangs into. Even if snow paved the grass and the temperature dropped below freezing, his diligence was more powerful than any snowflake or gust of ice. He would be dancing in the unbearable weather and doing whatever he pleased.

I indolently slumped into my chair in the dim garage, joined by my mother and grandma. The only light that appeared was the light of a candle displayed out onto the wooden table that once belonged to my great grandma.

I looked across the street to a group of kids walking along the sidewalk. They held flashlights, laughing along; I had never seen them before. It didn’t surprise me though, it was the first night of summer. Relief ran through me knowing I was done with my 7th grade year; a summer awaited for me.

There was an undertone of peace to the slight breeze.

Suddenly, a black shadow figure raced up to the open door of the garage. A soft voice followed after, “Do y’all own a black cat?”

There stood a girl around my age. Her chestnut hair pulled back into a low ponytail while Ray Bans framed her harvest bell eyes. The flush of pink on her cheeks that complimented her dreary eyes told me something was not right.

I jumped up to the voice along with my mom and grandma.

Replying with a “Yes,” the girl explained that a black cat laid dead in our front yard.

A feline had been hit by a car.

My eyes became the size of the moon as dubious thoughts flustered around my brain. I tried thinking back to the last time had seen Lincoln.

Did I let him go outside?

As I busted through the front door into the living room, my vacillating eyes frantically scanned the area. I searched my room, my parents’ room, and the back room; my Lincoln was nowhere to be seen.

I paced back and forth on the concrete driveway. A tornado gyrated in my mind, tearing down all my hope. A burning sensation filled my lungs, like someone pouring gasoline down my throat and igniting it with a peril filled match. My brain felt like it had been pounded by a one hundred pound hammer until there was nothing left but putty.

My Grandma darted into my room to find me searching for him. When my eyes met hers, she knew that his presence was nevermore.

“I don’t believe it’s him is what I managed out of my shaky voice, but we both knew it was a lie.

My dad, my mom, and I rushed outside to identify the body; although, they told me to wait next to the garage as they trotted up the lawn.

My wavering eyes averted across the lawn onto the road. The traffic raced on the highway; they were just smeared white lights across my vision. I gazed up at the twinkling stars looking down upon me. Searching for a shooting star was useless, but I still wished that the cat that lay on the side of the road did not belong to me.

Flashlights trailed across the crime scene as I searched for a signal from my mother to call me other. Finally, she walked to me draped in her white robe. Her eyebrows were drawn, her eyes were watery and her expression was dejected. As she took my hand, an ocean of dread washed through my body.

Every step I placed on my cold world felt like I was walking to my grave. I didn’t want to do this.

How did I get here?

When we reached the crowd circling around the cat, my eyes laid on a tragedy.

There laid a black puddle of fur. Lifeless. Drained. Dead.

No, that couldn’t be him I told myself. My Lincoln is out chasing mice or snakes and finding adventures, not waiting to be buried into the cold dirt where overtime would decay and decay and decay until he would be one with the Earth and the soil.

There were many people surrounding me and him, people I didn’t even know. They would become witnesses to this traumatizing event. As my father stood next to him, I knelt down on the plush grass and examined the cat that lay before me.

Denial rung heavy in my ears, like a call that was demanding me to pick up the phone to just sputter a “Hello?”

With my mind racing and thoughts anticipating, it was hard to hear my dad ask, “Do you think it’s him?”

“I don’t know,” were the only words I could say.

This isn’t him I thought, but as I traced my fingers under his fluffy belly and saw the distinct, sparse white hairs, I knew I was wrong. He looked so different sprawled out onto the grass, why couldn’t I recognize him? Was it his vacant stare? Was it his blank mouth drawn open with no sound emerging? With no meow, no call, no scream?

The atmosphere was full of tension and sorrow. I could almost smell it. I could just hear all the people’s thoughts surrounding me. “Aw. Look at that poor girl who just lost her cat. Whatever will she do now?”

Headlights wrapped around my head and the dark violent hue of the night sky was violent. I never knew summer air could be this bittersweet.

As my father lifted Lincoln’s stiff body, and turned his stiff head, I saw what would forever be burned and charred into my mind: his left sunshine eye spilled out onto the dewy grass. His veins, his iris, and his pupil were now out of socket. Never again would those golden rays connect to mine, for both of our eyes were lifeless and cold.

No, no, no, no, no! That’s not where it was supposed to be!

My guts and intestines twisted into a pretzel shape.

Is this real?

My head spun faster than the tires that murdered my precious baby.

This couldn’t possibly be real?

Can it?

Pin by pin, button by button, my heart busted open. Seam by seam, thread by thread, my heart ripped open. What heart surgeon could fix my broken heart? Or stitch me back together?

But the real question that thundered in my brain was, how could someone commit such a crime, and get away with it?

That was my best friend. That was my companion. That was my cat.

All I could do was stare at his body as a void formed inside of me.

How much will it take to fill it?

Stroking his bloody fur that used to be softer than cashmere was unbearable. I couldn’t stay for much longer. Clouds were forming in my eyes and everything became blurry, even with the flashlights shining in my face.

Although it was a humid summer night, I was so cold. The gentle breeze of wind felt like icebergs suffocating me, but my face was hotter than the sun itself.

Seeing the sight I saw, I could only whimper “Dad” in hopes that he would turn Lincoln back over so I wouldn’t have to face that horrifying image.

I didn’t want to lift my head; all of these faceless faces would see my agony.

I could hear them. Voices and whispers, what were they saying? They were only drowned out noises for me. If I faced them, they would see how I was struggling to breathe and how hard I was struggling to keep my tears in. I couldn’t keep them in. The dwelling was more powerful than gravity.

It took all of me to lift myself up and leave him. I walked away with my face in my hands. This would really be the last time I would ever see him.

My mind flashed back to just 2 hours ago when I was packing my suitcase to leave to my grandma’s house for the weekend. Lincoln blended into my suitcase of course, being the dark knight he proposed to be. He left traces of cat hair all over my suitcase. His sunflower, merriment eyes followed my hands as they folded my clothes. Little did I know, it would be the last time I would ever see him alive.

Before I knew it, I was inside the house. No more holding in. I exploded like a bomb set off in a war. Only, this was my war, and I did not know if I could win, or how to fight it.

I crashed into my grandma’s arms and she held me on the living room couch. Stroking my dark, wet hair, she told me, “Everything is going to be okay.”

It didn’t feel okay. Nothing did.

My grandpa sat near as he lightly patted my back offering his kind words of sympathy. Tears stained my face, and snot smeared all over my newly bought shirt they had just gifted me before I turned into a damsel in distress.

I couldn’t tell which was louder, the pounding of my head or my heartbeat.

Pandemonium streamed in my ears like it was being injected into me. Qualm thoughts flooded my mind joined my blazing vertigo. I just wanted to throw up whatever was sloshing in my stomach.

I was sick. Sick of the thought of him and the person that did this. How could they not see him running across the street? Why didn’t they stop?

All I wanted was a diversion, something to stop my world from being inverted.

Too many questions whirled in my head like a hurricane. Instead of destroying, it was creating, creating questions that had no answers.

I could not forgive the driver. That person was a cold blooded killer.

These thoughts did not solve anything, nor did my anger. Over the years, looking back became easier and easier. The more I saw his charcoal face, the more the pain dispersed.

He was a lovely shadow in the night; unfortunately, that is what got him killed.

But I knew holding hate in my heart for his death is not what he would have wanted. Lincoln held too much love for me to spread an overbearing resentment.

I could only pet his heavenly face in my dreams. He told me through our connection and through his rays of light to let go and forgive. Of course, I could never say no to him, so I did.