I gave away the unused cat litter and all three of Calli's bowls. I'm way too frugal and guilt-ridden to ever let anything go to waste, so I posted it under Free Stuff on craigslist. And the first responder came to pick up the stuff earlier this evening. Just as I was opening the outer front door to let him in, the inner wood door walloped Sophia in the back of the head. Somehow it had gotten dislodged from the huge block we use to prop it open. Wails and tortured screams ensued. The guy gave me advice to not let her sleep for 45 minutes because I needed to be certain she didn't have a concussion. (After writing this bit, I'm totally gonna go snopes this nonsense. Really, is that true?) Turns out that she was fine, stopped crying almost immediately after he left. More pressing to me was the fact that we already were about a cranky hour past her bedtime. So I lay with Soph after she calmed down, after our usual prayers and the nightly gratitude list that we offer up to God and the Universe. And I had one of those fake conversations with the guy, imagining him being really grateful for all of the stuff I gave him and my saying gravely "Oh, it's fine, you're quite welcome. Ohhhhh, Calli would have wanted you to have it." And that got me thinking about how much I hate it when people speak for the dead. I've always squirmed a bit when someone busts out with the "Oh, So-and-So would have wanted us all to be laughing and celebrating her life in this way." Well, maybe. At some point, but really...at the Wake? I dunno, call me cynical but that seems a bit crass. And aren't there a bunch of souls up there who just don't give a damn now that they're gone, especially those folks who didn't much care for anything while they were still twittering about town? And another thing, if the AfterLife is all that, the amazing sanctuary and perfect resting place that so many of us like to entertain in our imagination, then wouldn't these souls all just be completely smitten with their fancy-schmancy new digs? Wouldn't they be unfolding the 800-thread count ecru-colored sheets and possibly hanging out in the hot tub with the other new recruits? Poking around campus and perusing the new meal plan, the bookstore, what's on cable that night? That seems to make a helluva lot more sense to me than them all sitting around wishing that, for instance, their life partner got it on with the next available floozy who bumped into him at the grocery store. And Calli, for that matter, my sweet cat of nearly 17 years, I'm just not so sure she'd be all about me giving away her stuff. She was pretty darn territorial back when she was alive so really who's to say that the AfterLife brings such forgiveness and generosity?

Clearly, I have a lot, lot, lot more spiritual work to do.....