Aftermath

I was talking to Kevin Saturday night. I was telling him that my list of dependents had now shrunk by half: I still had Psyché's Song to worry about. I pointed out that might be a good thing in my life, at this stage in my life, but that I wasn't sure. I said that I missed not having to take Bando into account whenever I left paper and plates around, whenever I went out the front door, took the trash out the back gate, collected the newspaper or mail, sat down on the couch, or budgeted free time at the beginning or at the end of the day. I said that that might be a good thing.

Kevin nodded and shared an experience he had the week he sold his Olson-30. The next weekend, a ferocious storm hit Santa Barbara with awesome wind and waves. He had an impulse to go down to the harbor and check his boat. He realized a nano second later that he no longer had that responsibility as a burden. And, seconds later, he missed retaining that burden. I told Kevin, as always, he got me completely.

Truth be told. I think it not too good an idea for me to shake off the burden of responsibilities. That bell does not sound a lusty, robust, or healthy ring to my ears. I can allow a certain interlude to pass so that I can appreciate and measure the added fullness Bando contributed to our lives. Life is a trade-off, as they say. There might be some positives to his absence. For one thing, Trophy Wife and I need to fully realize that we can and do have a life after Bando: that was an issue that concerned us as we tried to anticipate how his inevitable passing would leave us. We need to allow some time to have that settled. Certainly not before we get Bando's ashes safely settled on his beach.

At the same time, I am loath to allow and indefinite time to pass before actively considering hiring a new quadruped to serve as a watchman, exercise trainer, escort, winter blanket and couch companion. I do not want to procrastinate or wait too long. If I am inattentive on this point, before too long my energies and sensitivities could collapse closer around my self-centered obsessions and preoccupations. Diminishing energies and peripheral consciousness might be a fact of the aging process. In fact, there is no 'might be' about it. But what energies and consciousness I retain need to be exercised, or I'll just lose those capacities sooner. Use it or lose it.

Besides, who's to say that having something breathing beside you isn't more important than having something bobbing around, down in some slip in the harbor? Both are important, of course. One day I might have to choose one over the other. Certainly. But surely not now, eh?