Yesterday was, objectively, a pretty decent day. It was a bit chilly, but not as cold as it has been the last couple of nights. Managed to get the Honda jumpstarted and up to the gas station; the battery didn’t hold a charge, however, and I sat waiting for a tow truck for another jumpstart. GEICO decided the best tow company they could contact was an hour away in Willits and then there was a wreck on Highway 20.
So, with the benificence of strangers and an assist from Fort Bragg Police Department, I got the Honda on the road again for a drive that should have been sufficient to charge the battery.
However, when I got home, the car still wouldn’t start. The battery had sat for too long.
Oh, well. I still listed it as for sale. Immediately began to get interested parties contacting me.
All in all, not a bad day.
And then I had to say good-bye to my kids before I go to Oregon. That hurt.
I don’t know if you’re familiar with the Harry Chapin song, Cat’s in the Cradle, but that song always reminded me of when my dad had to leave after visiting. It’s a simple concept. A man finds himself missing his son’s milestones of life because “there were planes to catch and bills to pay.” Each time, he tells his son that he can’t play and each time his son tells him “I’m gonna be like you, dad.” By the end of the song, his son no longer has time for him because the “new job’s a hassle and the kids have the flu,” showing that he’d grown up to be just like his father.
And now I have to do the same.
It’s already been tough the last couple of years. My kids used to come to my house for the weekends. Weekends were for my kids. And then I had to move in 2019 and I didn’t have a place they could come stay with me. When I found a place, with my girlfriend, in 2020, the Covid-19 lockdowns started. In agreement with their mother, I kept away to keep them safe until vaccines were available.
And then I was a stranger to them. Or at least that’s what it seemed like. I kept seeing them on the weekends, but not the overnights we used to have. Just a few hours at a time.
So, yesterday, I had to say goodbye for a few weeks while I start a new job out of state.
Yesterday, my cat, Mickey, disappeared. The last we saw him was yesterday afternoon. But he didn’t come whine to be let in for dinner. And he wasn’t there at 8 o’clock. Or 10 o’clock, or 1 a.m. He wasn’t outside in his bed under the bench this morning. And he still hasn’t shown up as of noon.
In my experience, when my cats have disappeared right before a major life change, I never see them again.
To sum it up, it has been an emotional 24 hours.