Midnight Koalas

 


Midnight Koalas 


Somehow, I never really realized how close together the anniversary of Kate’s death and Father’s Day are. This year though, hip deep in the icy swamp of grief, they feel like successive blows slamming into me one after another.


Today was an odd confluence of events.  We held our Pride party for the clients full of bright rainbows and happy chatter as the young people ate their way through double the fried chicken we’d ordered (thanks to the generosity of Charles’ Pan Fried). And at the same time there was the quiet sadness of the ancient photo on  my laptop, Dad’s muscled arms lifting my baby self way up to see the leaves on a tree in Central Park.


Layered on top of that was my worry about Connor, who did not show up for breakfast this morning, and was still nowhere to be seen when I left for the day. I knew he was probably napping in the closet, but when a senior cat with cancer changes his routine, it can be a bad sign.


 Tonight I had to  battle Gretchen who was so determined to share my vegetarian tacos - one of Kate’s favorites - that she didn’t realize that the tip of her extra long tail was in the water fountain.  Eventually she settled for a couple of small pieces of broken taco shell. 


When I came upstairs for the evening Connor was on my bed but when I turned around after feeding Jackson he was gone again, deepening my worry.


It was midnight and I was wide awake in the not-so-dark nyc darkness wondering if this ocean of sadness has a bottom when simultaneously my phone rang and a message popped up. The phone was a disabled client needing help to get from Brooklyn back home to the Bronx. There was nothing I could do about that- my entire bank balance would not cover that trip.  


The message, on the other hand, started puzzingly with “wtf”. If working with our clients has taught me anything it’s to wait for the story to unspool, and  the rest came soon. “I didn’t know Koalas got chlamydia!!!” Followed by a link. “Yeah,” I replied, it’s a real problem.”  The total randomness of the comment, especially at midnight,  broke the spell and I couldn’t help but laugh.  


Then I felt a brush of fur against my hand in the darkness and found Connor on the pillow neck to mine.  He didn’t eat well, just three cubes of his chicken and a little wet food after I opened him a fresh can, but I was able to give his medicine and we’ll see how he is in the morning.

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