Uncertainty

With far too much of the world gripped in a panic induced by a pandemic, I've been contemplating how poorly the vast majority of humans deal with uncertainty in life. The following ramble came out of that exercise.

Fear of the unknown has been considered the most potent of fears experienced by humans. A microscopic virus cannot be seen by the unaided eye with only its casualties left behind to be witnessed as evidence of its passage -- unless you work in a lab analyzing test samples. For all intents and purposes it is almost supernatural to the lay person, resulting in an intense primordial fear being felt by more than a few and far too many.

The most dangerous problem with intense fear is that it is intrinsically irrational and furthermore generates deeply irrational reactions that really can't be called thoughts. Feeding into that is another fear that is common and lurks below the surface in a constant fashion: uncertainty. Often manifesting as anxiety over change, it can be debilitating all by itself.

Now add the normal fear of death and you have a cocktail of genuine madness that is capable of being spread more quickly than any virus. If that wasn't enough, the continued political actions based on Rahm Emmanuel's famous line, "You never let a serious crisis go to waste," has generated genuine fear of government infringement of civil rights here in the United States. Since the upper middle class to wealthy so far aren't affected by job loss the way middle and lower class voters have been, a huge disparity in economic impact is exacerbating the situation.

There is a terrible social and economic disconnect between the highly educated classes and everyone else being fully revealed by this. Not only is there no empathy, there is zero sympathy exhibited toward the struggles of the poorer as they suffer economic devastation. Instead, vilification is the order of the day as the lock down turns into an open class struggle.

When people are oscillating from fear of death to fear of losing their homes to fear of having their rights taken away to fear of anyone disagreeing with them, you have truly reached uncertain times. The uncertainty is inescapable, not even through binge streaming television as has become the big thing to do -- with so many trapped at home now.

It's driving people crazy and making them meaner.

That Which is Given, is Quickly Taken Away

I haven't been this upset in some time and typing this post is surprisingly difficult.

Just over three years ago, I wrote a post about a kitten I'd gotten to help another cat get over his depression at his brother's disappearance. Meriadoc was a little bundle of pure joy who more than accomplished his assigned task. Top adopted Merry as his new brother with the younger cat adoring him.


Along with a neighbor's cat who arrived in a snowstorm and refused to leave, the cats became very tight companions. So tight that we referred to them as "the Three Musketeers" due to their running around outside as a unit. They were so much fun to watch together, mainly due to the fact we'd never seen male cats bond like this before.


Two weeks ago, Merry went missing during high activity by local coyotes. Multiple nights they could be heard nearby taunting the neighbor's dogs. With no sign of him, we wrote him off as yet another cat taken by local varmints. We found ourselves missing him greatly.

Then this past Wednesday, I heard a rusty hinge of a meow from the dining room. Not believing my ears, I went to see if I was mishearing things. No, it was a beat up and very happy to be home Merry who begged to be picked up. Suffering from a slight weight loss and scratches from a fight with another cat, he was very much alive.

Over the next couple of days, he was in and out, demanding and getting extended holding sessions. His bowels weren't being kind to him, but I held him despite the pungent aroma he exuded while watching a DVD Friday night. I was so very grateful for his return that it didn't matter.

Little did I know that would be the last time I'd get to hold him alive.

Dad and I decided to go see a movie and as we turned on to the county road, I saw a black cat lying still in the middle of one lane. It was Merry. He'd been run over and his corpse was frozen without a hint of damage.

As I'm typing this, we have a fire going over a small patch of soil in an effort to soften it enough to bury the plucky black cat who gave us so much happiness. It wasn't just Top's heart that had been mended by Merry's presence, but those of the humans in his household.

Right now I'm fighting for self control. When I'd thought we'd lost him earlier, it wasn't like this. Losing him so soon after getting him back is unexpectedly excruciating. I'd thought I'd gotten used to the constant loss that defines my life.

Merry won't be and can't be replaced.