Count Your Blessings
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Count Your Blessings

Tell those in your life that you love them when you have the chance.

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Count Your Blessings
Kirsten Staller

I sit at the table, candles lighting the lacey red table cloth as the electricity is dimmed. A widespread of food sits on the table, thick aroma dancing with the wine glasses filled with cranberry juice. My brother and his fiance are absent, dining with Kelsey’s family. We are quiet, my dad and mom saying a prayer. I itch my finger before playing with my nose ring.

Tuesday, 14th of November, twelve thirty in the morning.
I can’t sleep so I get out of bed. I don sweatpants and a sports bra, tie my hair back. I pat Addie’s head goodbye and head out in the chilly morning. I run for the longest I can, walking when I lose my breath. My hands have numbed with the chill of the air.

Marc, my moms boyfriend, starts to tell a story about a coworker not contributing his share.

We eat mostly in silence, my mom’s boyfriend telling a story of how he was trying to get his backyard cleaned up. My mom offered descriptions of the brush that coated the dead grass. I keep my head down. Midnight hollars, brushing up against my chair leg, green eyes begging for turkey. I give him a piece and he bites it tenderly from my fingers. Sensing that Midnight was getting something Addie isn’t, she comes up but remains a short distance away as Midnight is very protective over his food and will eat everything. I click my tongue for her to come and give her a smaller piece on the other side of my body. Midnight tries to nudge his way to steal her treat, but the smaller cat has already snatched her piece and backed away, chewing furiously.

I come back around one, out of breath as this is the first time that I’ve ran since being at school. I haven’t had much time for working out and it’s been showing by my jeans not quite fitting right and the button buttoning. The tip of my nose is rosy and my cheeks are auburn. I adjust my sweatshirt as I make my way up the three flights of stairs. The burn is already flaming in my legs and I’m out of breath again. Two residents are talking at the end of the hall. I join them, sitting and gossiping quietly. One goes to bed and the other comes back to my room. He’s ecstatic as he had just had a mutual breakup with his six year relationship and he has a full college experience ahead of him. He tells me that he’s an open book so I can ask him anything and so I leave my RM hat on and let him divulge. He tells me that I need to speak more about myself and I say he just needs to ask because I don’t know where to start. I’m barely into my history when my phone rings. It’s my brother.

The dusk is setting slowly when we take a walk in the backyard. There’s a crisp smell in the air, all of the leaves have fallen. The red sun filters through the bare branches, splattering on the brown carcasses of leaves. It’s the full essence of fall and my land is protected by being a wetland. There’s an array of wild animals, most commonly seen is deer and raccoons. We walk by where my dad wants to still to build a shed and a little house in the back. We round the corner and come back the the house, wandering in the cleared acre in the back. We start a bonfire and pull up chairs, burning brush that has been sitting all summer.

“It’s Gus,” Jonah says. My eyes instantly begin to tear. “He had an episode, clawed me good one last time, and collapsed.”
“At least he got in one last good one.” I stammer out.
My brother makes a wet agreement and I can’t respond. My jaw is clenched, tears already blurring my vision. I finally say, “Thanks for telling me.”

We hang up and I begin to bawl.
He’s had congestive heart failure in the beginning of the summer when he had his first episode. He had collapsed while outside and was crying. I picked him up and knew instantly something was wrong when he didn’t complain when I brought him inside. He was calm when we went to the vet. Each episode is caused when a blood clot is lodged in the vein between his two hind legs. The first one passed eventually and the vet gave Gus Gus anywhere three weeks to six months. He had lasted five months, a week before I came home for college. My boy was thirteen years old. We had him since he was a kitten.
I can still remember when he was a ball of white fluff and he crawled up on my dad’s back, sitting content on his shoulder. I remember when we had an old refrigerator and the curiosity closed in on Gus and he stuck his head between the door and the shelves, my mom didn’t realized and closed the door on him. I remember him laying in my room and I laid my head against his stomach, knowing that my heart hurting was love. I remember when I came back from Europe and he was laying on my suitcase and I laid next to him, sleeping. He would roll outside and come trotting back in with burrs stuck to his fur. We would worry when he would be out late at night because we could hear the fisher cats. He would sit proudly by the latest kill, a small mole or rat. He would spread the fleas across the house. He sat at the edge of the patio, looking over the expanse of the yard. I would see him running up when we came home and called his name. He would lounge in my neighbors gazebo.
Always with his wistful eyes, striking out when pet too long. One of my best friends and my last connection to my first cat, Marbles. And he was gone, a week before I could say goodbye. Four months since I have seen him last.

The night is late when we come back inside. Addie is sleeping on the couch and Midnight lays in the foyer. My dad and I sit in the living room as Marc and my mom go out for early Black Friday shopping. Addie and Midnight both come in eventually, Midnight perching on the armrest and Addie settling into my dad’s lap. There was no Gus on the center table. I still had my two loves next to me. I still had two more blessings.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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