Secret messages and finding comfort after a loss

Losing someone we love is never easy. We seek rationale and try to make it easier for ourselves. I don’t think I’m the only person who still sees their loved ones around for months or even years after they have passed away. Every so often I catch a glimpse of one of them… on a bus, walking by the window, in a German hotel in the middle of nowhere eating breakfast (I kept staring at the woman but couldn’t explain, even in broken German and charades, even if I’d wanted to).

When my Great Aunt died, it seemed so terribly unfair. She had been a carer of sorts for her husband, my Great Uncle who had been very ill with cancer for a long time. Three months later, he passed away too. A friend of mine told me that it isn’t unusual for ‘soulmates’ to pass away in quick succession. This brought me some comfort. My mum also comprehended it in that my Great Aunt had always had to go on ahead to make sure everything was right for my Great Uncle. She had to go on holiday a couple of days before him, for example, to set up the apartment. This was just another example of her going on ahead.

When one of my Grandad’s died, we made ourselves feel better in that he had suffered for long enough and had fulfilled his wish of one last Christmas with us all. It was a horrible Christmas because we all knew it would be the last with him… but we were together and that was important.

When my other Grandad died it was quite shocking because his health seemed to decline so rapidly. His parting gift to me was his car in the hope that I would learn to drive. It was too large for me at the age of seventeen and I would never have gotten insurance on it. As a family, we sold it and the proceeds went towards my driving lessons and ‘new’ (second hand at auction) car. There are days when I am driving in the sunshine and I know that he would be proud of me. I’m the first to offer myself for help with my car as needed because that it what he would have done. He loved to drive and always helped people out. As ridiculous as it sounds, sometimes I can smell him. Every Christmas Eve I sit in his chair with his photo and miss him. We have a conversation in my head about the year and how it has gone.

Last summer, we lost another of my Great Uncles. He had been very poorly for a very long time and it was a real blessing for him that he passed. Again, as sad as we were to lose him we were pragmatic about the fact that he was no longer suffering. At the time of his death, more than 250 miles away, I was having a conversation with him in my head. I was telling him that he was OK to let go and pass on. We would be OK as a family. We loved him and didn’t want him to suffer any more. I was thinking about calling the ward and asking them to put the phone near him, so I could tell him this in person but there was no need. Actually, a few hours before my Grandad died, my mum (his daughter) heard a little voice in the back of her mind telling her ‘it’s time to give him back’. She’s always found some comfort in that.

The day after Pudding (my cat) was put to sleep, I was in the presence of my then boyfriend’s parents’ cat and dog. Neither would leave me alone and were desperate for cuddles. For the first time, the cat licked me and was incredibly affectionate. The dog always loved a fuss, but the cat was very nonchalant until that day. All the guilt I had felt about Pudding evaporated. For some reason, I knew she was alright. It brought me great comfort.

And now, the day after my darling Dharma has passed on, I have another little sign that he is OK. Guilt is a horrible feeling, even when you know you did your very best. When all you want for your loved ones is the very best, times like this feel like the exact opposite. I am pro-euthanasia but it is still terribly difficult to do. Even when done entirely out of compassion and loving-kindness for that being, I still have a nagging doubt. I knew it was the right thing to do, but now I am sure.

Dharma was so named because I bought Dharma and Lotus as a result of one of Ajahn Brahm’s Dharma talks. He was named to remind me to listen to Dharma talks when I need to. This afternoon, after four years of catching up with them at a later date, I was able to listen to one of these talks live for the very first time – Friday afternoons are suddenly looking very filled up for the time being! I needed to listen to a Dharma talk this afternoon… and I was able to ask a question. In a strange coincidence, Ajahn Brahm answered my question! I shall edit this post later with a link…

I think it is fair to say that it has brought me comfort. I cried briefly with relief, but it is good.

Whatever brings comfort after a loss is never a bad thing. It doesn’t have to be rational or make sense to anyone else but you. If you believe in heaven, that’s great. If you believe in reincarnation, that’s great. If you know that their suffering is over, that’s great… whatever works for you is the way forward!

Euthanasia

There is no specific reason for my writing this post right now. It isn’t something I particularly like to think about having to do for any animal.

In my life, I’ve had to have a couple of cats put to sleep, and Sunshine the betta.

BONNIE

Bonnie was put to sleep when she was about twenty years old. She had diabetes, was very old and nearly blind. She lived with my Dad who had to keep most things in the same place so she wouldn’t crash into them! My Dad loved and cherished Bonnie. She had lived with me while I was young, but when my Mum and I moved next to a main road and Bonnie was scratching at the wallpaper, it became infeasible to keep her. She had always preferred my Dad anyway and was perfectly happy with him for the best part of ten years.

When my Dad called me to tell me that Bonnie had lost the use of her back legs and needed to go to the vets, I was ready to take them both… until my car broke down half way! The following morning, my Dad called me (in floods of tears) to tell me that Bonnie had had to be put to sleep. She was so terribly old and so terribly ill at that point that it was the kindest and fairest thing to do.

PUDDING

Pudding was put to sleep at about the same age. I hadn’t known her anywhere near as long but we were the best of friends. I can’t even begin to describe the positive impact that cat had on my life. She had belonged to my step-dad’s (late) first wife and had been taken in as a stray. She was very long-haired and not one for self-grooming. She often ended up with dreadlocks and little tufts of fur like a dandelion. Nobody in my Mum’s (and Stepdad’s) house really paid her much attention, other than me. There were times when I would go to visit my Mum when really I was there for Pudding. She knew when I was sad and would be really affectionate. She would greet me with a little ‘mew’ and then trot on over. Most of the time she lived in the conservatory – which was where everything that wasn’t wanted was put. Perhaps this was why Pudding and I had such an affinity – neither of us felt particularly wanted.

Pudding had been getting increasingly more ill. She was all-but deaf and had taken to lying in the middle of the (very rural) country road and ignoring cars when they honked their horns for her to get out of the way. She had also started urinating everywhere. The heat of the conservatory did her no favours but if she’d come into the main part of the house, she’d have urinated everywhere and even more flies would come in. My Mum and Stepdad live down the road from a chicken farm, so in summer there are a disgusting amount of flies. These would then lay eggs in her wet food, and if she didn’t eat it all in time, she had the good sense to avoid it.

I was there when Pudding passed away. It was a horrible decision for all of us to make, especially my Stepdad. In the end, her kidneys were failing and her quality of life was not going to get any better. While I understand and respect my Dad for giving Bonnie the best he could, I often wonder if it was the right thing to do to keep her alive as long as he did. My Stepdad couldn’t be in the room when Pudding passed on. I chose to be there with her. She had been there for me on so many occasions and I couldn’t let her down now. Even then, it felt like a massive betrayal. The vet, however, had failed to mention, that sometimes after an animal has passed, they appear to gasp for air. I let out an ear-piercing scream and leapt backwards. In the heat of the moment, all my Mum could do was laugh – apparently I had to be almost peeled off the walls! I had heard of animals farting after death, but not appearing to gasp for air! It was a horrible, horrible experience for all of us, but we did the best we could for my friend.

SUNSHINE

Sunshine the betta was not with us long. He was prone to fin-nipping, despite our best efforts to keep him entertained by moving plants around his tank often. Whether it was fin-rot or the ‘lucky bamboo’ that had poisoned him, we will never know. Either way, the little fella was in very poor shape. No medication seemed to be helping him, and he spent most of his time resting behind his heater (freaking me out that he had died), or flashing. My housemate, Ela, and I made the difficult decision that his suffering should end. Ela couldn’t bring herself to be there at the end, but I purchased the clove oil and did what had to be done.

HOW TO PUT A FISH TO SLEEP

There are several methods but not all are as humane as others:

• Flushing your fish down the toilet is a bad idea because they will perish in the pipes or water-treatment works. This seems desperately unkind and painful for the fish.
• Freezing (where the fish is placed in a shallow bowl of water and put in the fridge) is very slow and painful.
• Some people advocate using vodka in the water but this burns the gills and again very painful.
• Perhaps the quickest (and theoretically less painful) method is to decapitate the fish. This will probably be deeply unpleasant for you so not one I recommend.
• Clove oil or Finquel (my preferred method)

Clove oil was easily available at a local chemist and is commonly used to treat tooth pain. It acts as an anaesthetic. I followed the instructions, as per the videos above. The only difference I made was to repeatedly tell Sunshine that I loved him and was glad he had been part of my life. This way, I could be sure that he left this life surrounded by love and positivity.

I discuss how to put a fish to sleep further here.

WHAT ABOUT ONCE THE FISH HAS PASSED?

Sunshine passed fairly quickly. He went to sleep after about five minutes and was very peaceful. We made the mistake of flushing him down the toilet once we were sure he had passed. We were so shocked and so upset that we just didn’t know what to do.

I have since given this some thought and come across pet coffins! Yes, they are a thing! It sounds really morbid but I’m so glad to have found them! Some interesting designs can be found here. To be honest, I wouldn’t mind paying for one! If I had a colour printer, it would be a great idea! As it stands, I came across this design:

This, I’m sure can be resized and printed as required, perhaps even with your own design.

Should I lose another fish in the near future I have a few options. At present, I don’t have a garden so I could always bury him or her in a flower pot with a nice plant above.My immediate thought with this, though, is that what if the plant needs repotting at any time? Another option is on top of the hill nearby my house. It has a beautiful view and I’ve had many happy moments there. My final option, if the fish doesn’t die of illness, is to return the fish to a body of water. Again, there are numerous options near me, not least of all the sea!

My instructions for DIY grave markers are here.

Euthanasia isn’t an easy thing to contemplate, let alone do. Moreover, it is a very personal choice. It isn’t going to be for everyone and some people will prefer to let the animal find their way out of this world in their own time. For me, I cannot stand to see suffering. If it was a person, they could quit explicitly tell us that they want their suffering ending as painlessly as possible; they can decline treatment and opt for palliative care. When it comes to animals, however, it is more complicated. I willed Sunshine go get better. I told him how much I loved him and how I would love him to heal. Ultimately, if he couldn’t get better, I promised not to let him suffer. If he wanted to, and could fight, I would give him everything I could. Sometimes, you just know. Pudding was deeply unhappy and would have suffered, Bonnie would have had no quality of life and suffered tremendously, Sunshine was the same. Ultimately, I stand by my decisions. It really doesn’t make me feel much happier about having to do it, but I know that I have to do the best I can for my pets.

My pets died knowing they were loved. Whether you decide to go down the euthanasia route or not, the best you can ever do for your pet is that.

Depression Awareness Week – the health benefits of an aquarium

The truth is that I have had depression for a very long time. I have had immensely bad periods of depression for nearly twenty years of life and each one has been incredibly scary. It isn’t helped by the fact that I also have Seasonal Affective Disorder which makes me depressed and exhausted all winter long.

I only recently found the right medication for me after a lot of trial and error and numerous doctors not taking me seriously. I’m very lucky to finally have doctors who listen to me as a human being and treat me as such, rather than just another item on a conveyor belt.

After my last serious bout, I took great steps (with the help of my doctors) to improve my quality of life. The right medications, counselling, help from specialist doctors and efforts I could make on my own and in my own time were put to work. You name it, I’ve tried it. Not all of the attempts I have made improve my quality of life all of the time. Sometimes, I have to mix them up and try something different for a while. Colouring books, for example, have become quite fashionable but while these are good for a while, I like to stop sometimes and find something else.

One serious step was actually managing to go travelling for a month last year. It was necessary for my research and while it was mentally, physically and emotionally gruelling, it was one of the best times of my life. I finally had time to get to know myself again. I had the support of friends and family with whom I would Skype on an evening, but on the whole I was very much a solitary creature. I could do what I wanted to do, when I wanted to do it (just about!). I found out that I’m pretty good company. I even developed the confidence to eat in a restaurant by myself! I would never do that before!

Another huge step, and a very long lasting one, was the decision to start a fish tank. I’m a big fan of Ajhan Brahm and absolutely love to listen to his podcasts and watch his Youtube channel. Sometimes he puts into words what we all really know, but in a way that makes them doable and achievable. I often find myself nodding along in agreement and thinking ‘yes, this is something I can do in my own life’. One such recommendation was to get a pet. Actually, I heard this recommendation twice during two different podcasts on a long drive home. I really liked the idea as I’ve always loved being around animals. My late cat, Pudding, was a great source of support during difficult times a few years ago. My housemate was totally against anything fluffy. We’re not allowed large animals where we live and she really didn’t want me to get any sort of rodent. She did say I could get a fish, though.I don’t think she expected a fish to live very long or for me to get quite so interested in fish as I have…

Whether it is something cute and fluffy, something aquatic, something really rather scary (I’m thinking snakes and spiders), it can have a profound effect on your life. There’s nothing like coming home to find a creature really excited to see you. Pudding would always greet me with a little meow and would trot over from her bed to see me and be petted. My fish don’t quite do the same thing, but they always seem happy to see me. As I walk from one side of the room to another, they will follow me n their tank. They will watch me as I sit at the computer and do the ‘I’m hungry dance’ for attention. Dharma will also blow spurts of water at the top of the tank and, at one point, took to smacking his gums together in the corner of the tank on a morning if I was late to feed them. Sometimes, you just want to be left alone and my fish offer a perfect balance between company and no company. I know they’re there, I know we love each other, but they’re cool if I just go and curl up in bed. They don’t get offended by it, they don’t mind if I don’t talk to them about how I’m feeling, they don’t even mind if I can’t get my act together to have a shower and look awful.

Watching fish is incredibly relaxing. There’s something about the way they move and glide through the water. Perhaps it is also that my fish are also a little clumsy at times and can really make me laugh. Sometimes I will find myself losing an hour or so just watching them. I try not to let them know that I’m watching them as it disrupts their play and they think I might feed them. Sometimes, I will come up to the glass and talk to them. It doesn’t matter if they understand or not -sometimes just vocalising something that is bothering me can make me feel better.There’s a good reason why you might find an aquarium in a waiting room – they really can chill you out. For whatever reason this might me, loads of studies (which I’m not going to link to) have suggested that watching a fish tank can reduce stress levels and blood pressure. There are moments when I’ll be sat at my computer, stressing out about something or other and turn for however long I need to my fish tank. It might be a couple of seconds or it might be minutes, but it calms and restores me. Meditation is something I would love to give a real go but I find it incredibly difficult to just ‘let go’ of every thought in my head. I like to think that I’m ‘warming up’ to it by focusing only on my fish.

Actually, when it comes to focusing on my fish, this was one reason for Zhi-Zhi. She was sold to me as an oranda but the more I look at her, the more I think she was a wrongly labelled fantail. She was named ‘wisdom-wisdom’ because, at the time of me buying her, I was having to have some rather invasive medical tests. I had had these the year before too, and they had stressed me out to breaking point. Throughout the tests, I remembered my fish and the knowledge I had learned from the previous year. Did stressing out help me? No. Did it achieve anything? No. I kept my mind focused on my fish throughout the tests, and kept myself chilled out while waiting for the results by spending time with my fish.

Some people think I’m crazy for talking to my fish. It’s not to say that I hold full-on conversations with them! I do, however, like wish them a happy day when I leave the building, or greet them when I return. I say good morning when I wake up, and tell them I love them, how lucky I am to have them in my life and wish them sweet dreams at night. Each time I speak to them, it is something positive coming out of my mouth. I’m thinking about something positive and reacting to it. I’m being kind and loving towards other living creatures. This positivity sticks. I used to love working on the front-desk of a hotel because I was forced to smile all day – whether I wanted to or not. It often got a positive reaction and I would leave my shift often feeling much happier than when I started. It’s the same reason why I love teaching. It’s very much a case of ‘fake it until you make it’ but it works for me. Sometimes just the smallest ray of sunshine in an otherwise dreary day can make all the difference.

My other housemate loves the sound of running water. I worried for a while that the sound of the filter would disturb my housemates but they actually really seem to appreciate it. It was one of the reasons why one of my housemates wanted her own fish and tank in the living room. She, too, could sit and eat her dinner whilst staring into the tank and enjoying the beauty of her betta, Sunshine, and the sound of the filter. To be honest, unless the filter is really loud and the lid is on the tank, I rather like the sound too! I still prefer to sleep with some music, a podcast or a movie on, but I like the sound of the running water when I need it. I have got downloads of running water but they just aren’t the same as listening to the real thing.

A little part of me would really love a dog. The exercise would certainly do me good, as would the fresh air and sunshine. The truth is that I don’t really have the energy for a dog at the moment. That said, a year ago I wouldn’t have thought I could cope with an aquarium. The maintenance hasn’t become a chore but something I enjoy as a way to show my fish that I love them. Sure, it was exhausting using buckets to change the water and it’s still quite a big job for me, but it is something that I can feel satisfied about having achieved and know that it is for the good of my fish. They don’t demand that I do it there and then when I just want to be left alone. It is a conscious choice to help them and care for them. Again, it all comes back to cultivating this positive feeling. I try to clean the tank every five days or so and will do a big water change because I am overstocked. That said, if I let it run to six days, I’m not going to beat myself up about it and neither are my fish.

Along with all the other steps I’ve taken and continue to take to help my physical and mental well-being, my fish are a really big part of that. There’s a very good reason for thanking them for all they do for me every night and it is my pleasure to do so.

My history of goldfish…

As a very young child (so I’m told), we kept goldfish. I dread to think what the tank size was but it would definitely have been overstocked given the scant details from my parents. In truth, I thought we had kept tropical fish but I have since been told they were goldfish. One version of events is that it was an extremely hot summer and they had gotten too warm and died. Another version of events is that they contracted ich and died. Either way, we were doing it wrong! By all accounts, it was only when the black moor died that I realised the fish were disappearing. I was young though!

My second attempt at goldfish keeping came a little later when I was about six or seven years of age. I saw goldfish as prizes at the local funfair and desperately wanted to win one. My parents wouldn’t let me on that day and preferred to go away and set up the tank before I won the fish. In theory, this was a very smart idea although the tank was more of a bowl. I hasten to add that this was the early 1990’s and even my Dad who had been an avid tropical fish keeper in his youth probably didn’t know much better. Frank and Bruno lived in what must have been about a 14 litre bowl with no filter. How they lived the year to eighteen months that they did is a miracle. One was gold and the other was a chocolatey brown colour. Both were probably ‘feeder’ fish, the most ‘basic’ goldfish one might imagine. My grandmother would come round and periodically clean out the tank, rinsing everything under tap water before popping the fish back in. This, again, was a huge mistake. We did nothing right by those two goldfish.

Their bowl was placed on top of a high wardrobe so the kitten (Bonnie) couldn’t treat herself to a snack but this didn’t stop one of them magically disappearing. Mum had an operation so we went to stay with my grandparents nearby for a few weeks. We came home every day to feed Bonnie, Frank and Bruno, but one day we noticed that one of them was missing. We searched high and low for him but he was nowhere to be found. We presumed Bonnie had found a way onto the wardrobe and eaten him but I have since developed a new theory on this. I believe the water conditions were so bad that he jumped and was then eaten by Bonnie. The second fish died a couple of days later. I thought it was loneliness or stress from Bonnie eating his buddy but again my opinion has changed. I think the water quality was bad. In such a tiny bowl and with no filtration, it can only have been the case.

I feel truly awful about Frank and Bruno. I console myself that I was a child and now as an adult I am able to make more sensible and helpful decisions to help my pets. I can’t say a kitten and a seven year old are a particularly good mix either! Bonnie was not a doll and did not like being treated like one. Most cats now like me but Bonnie never forgot. Now, with access to the Internet and the endless information available, I am able to be the responsible fish owner I wish I had been all those years ago.