Magical Sailor Fuku

By nothing more than a cloudy navy blue sky on its way to night and a ghostly moon peeking through the clouds.

Yet... this morning I learned my mom's rottweiler Mattie, who I have known and loved since she was a puppy, died... and I did not cry.

In truth I was annoyed... annoyed that the dog would die and cause my mom so much grief... she has had so many hardships in the past few years that it seemed unfair that one more would be heaped on her.

And she was sad... I heard it in her voice... and I was sad because she was sad. But of the fact itself I felt... nothing. And as I gazed up into the sky, eyes damp, I realized this...

Why is it that a movie... a book... or nature's beauty can bring me to tears... but not this? Does it say something about me? Am I desensitized to death? Am I horrible for that?

I dont know... but as I type this I think back... and death has never moved me. I dont think I even cried when at 13 I learned of my grandmom's death. And I loved her very much...

Why is it... I dont know. But the funerals I have been to of those I knew closely, and there have been more than one ever wants to go to, I dont remember crying. Sadness, longing for them to be back... wishing things had turned out differently... but not the deep grief that brings tears.

I look around and see the reactions of others... and I know I am probably in the minority in this. And why I am writing this down right now... I dont know. Why even will I hit Submit instead of deleting this and going back to the Muffin room to forget this I dont know...

Maybe its just that I feel that it needs to be said. Think of it what you would.

Who knows what that says about you. Perhaps you're just accustomed to showing what you feel for inconsequential things, which don't really happen in reality, because, perhaps, to an extent, it doesn't really matter. And when something happens in reality, that you'd normally react to in a certain way to something fictional or inconsequential, perhaps a sense of shock makes it hard to react. Who knows?

You're not alone, I guess. At best I just feel like crying every once in a while, but don't. I suppose I lost the ability to care too much, somewhere down the road. Although it's not like I have friends and family to care about, anyway.

One of our cats has been missing for a week now, and I suspect he's dead, but I can't find it in me to care. That's life, I guess.

Dont worry about cats... they know how to get on in the wild... or at least the urban wild. Whole clans of them ran New Orleans after the Katrina thing.

A dog wouldnt have as good luck probably.

Anyway... its just that I find it hard to care about death, you know? It happens... and when it happens it happens. There is no getting around it... no changing it... so... why tear yourself up about it?

The more extreme the situation, the harder it is to convey emotion. I have difficulty understanding it myself. Not once have I ever shed a tear at a funeral. Not even my grandpa's.

So you're not totally on your own. Still the minority, but still.