How to Deal

This is my cat, Don Gato. I loved that cat like crazy. He died in 2006 and I cried for days. He had been in our family for almost 16 years.

I don't have much experience with death. I have fuzzy memories of attending the funerals of my great-grandparents, but I was so young when they died that I didn't really know what was going on.

When I was a teenager, my favorite Primary teacher unexpectedly passed away. She was my teacher when I was five, my pen-pal after I moved away, and an amazing friend. When we would go back to visit my grandparents' ward, I would always go to her class. Even when I was in Young Women.

I flew up to Utah for the funeral. I remember getting a giant bear hug from her husband, and my heart just breaking for him. If my loss was so painful, I couldn't bear to think about what his loss was like.

Then, when I was in high school, a boy in my seminary class was hit by a car and killed while on his way to school. We were all in shock for days. I didn't know him very well, but the idea that someone my age could die was terrifying.

And that's it. A cat, a Primary teacher, and a kid from class.

As ridiculous as it sounds, I fully believe that the people I love are never going to die. Consciously, yes, I know that everyone is going to die. But something in me refuses to believe that it will ever happen to anyone I really care about, especially not family.

And so my reactions are all wrong. When my grandpa is diagnosed with Stage 2 Myelofibrosis, I just take it in stride (partly because I had no idea what it was, partly because I honestly believe that somehow it will just go away). When the doctors discover a huge tumor in my cousin's brain I am shocked, but once again, I honestly believe that she will make a full recovery despite the diagnosis. When my dad goes into septic shock while on a business trip in California and almost dies before any of us even know what's going on, I want to smack him for not giving us more details sooner. But I'm not really scared, because nothing will ever happen to my dad.

But the realistic part of myself knows that some day, probably sooner rather than later, I am going to lose someone close to me. And I'm scared because I have no idea how to deal with it. Despite everything that I know and believe about life after death and eternal families, I'm not sure I will be able to handle the 'now' part. The part where I can't call them on the phone to say hi. The part where they won't be there when I go visit. The realization that something is missing and will always be missing.

I know that eventually the pain fades. But it's been almost five years since Don Gato died, and there are still times I think I see him lounging around the corners when I go home. And in that split second where I forget and remember, it's like losing him all over again. And this is a cat, for Pete's sake! I refuse to even think about losing a family member.

Which is why all the people I love are going to live forever.