I just got a sympathy card from my vet's office

[NNadir]

32. Thank you for your advice and kind words.

I suppose the term "put down" as a metaphor for death refers to the practice of burial of the dead.

It's funny, for many years I failed to understand the ritual of graves, but when Valentine's life was over, the vet offered us cremation, but we chose to bring "her home" and bury her in our yard. "She" has a grave, one with an ummarked stone over it.

Of course, I do not think that Valentine's body was or is in fact Valentine.

I wrote about my confusion about death rites, with particular reference to the remains, the bodies of the once living over in the atheist forum:

As an atheist, how do you feel about dead people, specifically, bluntly, dead bodies, including, ultimately, your own?

My view is that the only place Valentine lives, and for that matter my mother lives, or my father lives is in my memory. I offered my sons this view as they may face the "problem" of my mortal remains, as my wife and I faced the problem of Valentine's mortal remains.

I have a problem with the word "spirit," to be honest, although in my speech at my mother-in-law's funeral, as most of the audience consisted of religious people, I translated a phrase from Hesse's prologue to Demian using that word, "spirit."

In jedem ist der Geist Gestalt geworden, in jedem leidet die Kreatur, in jedem wird ein Erlöser gekreuzigt.

...as...

In each a form of the spirit is molded, in each the creator sufferers, in each is a redeemer who is crucified.

(This is a deliberately inaccurate translation, particularly with respect to the word "Kreatur," which literally doesn't translate as I did; but it fit in with the Trinitarian beliefs of the family, so I felt justified to do it that way, saying, "...taking small liberties with the translation from the German to get at what I think it means..." I'm glad I did it that way.)

Another euphemism, "...passed on" also has religious ramifications.

I suppose I could use the Shakespearean "shuffled off this mortal coil..." which also has "spiritual" implications "For who knows what dreams might come..."

My own life is winding down, and I think about death quite a bit, and have come to the conclusion that in some ways it is a wonderful thing, since it makes life itself all that more precious. To be honest, I don't want to be "put down" in the sense of having a grave. That seems like a terrible waste of perfectly usable human tissue.

I have no religion. To me it is enough that life, whatever comes of it, is ineffable and unknowable, which is, I think, wonderful.

I was looking in Valentine's eyes, locked in with hers, stroking her head as she died. I remember that sadness and that beauty.

I did weep.

They say one dies twice, once when one's heart stops beating and again when there is no longer anyone who can say your name."

She was a wonderful cat; with whom I often joked - not that she knew what a joke was - and I suppose a just phrase would simply be the word "died."

She's still alive, such as it is, in my memory, much the same as my father, my mother, and many others...

Thanks again for your comment and kind words.