To remember what Wabbit taught me

Wabbit passed away after 6 days of living under our roof. I like to think that it would have died anyway, and that we gave it a good few days before he had to leave.

6 Days may seem short, but he taught me so much. Even now, the space below our TV on my right feels empty and quiet.
In his memory, I must and will remember what he so graciously imparted.

1) The pain a parent feels when her child rejects her/him.

When Wabbit first came, he was extremely afraid of us. The slightest hand movement in his direction would accelerate his heart rate and cause him to tremble. The ache in my heart must have been similar to that of my mother's as I time and again pushed her away. Her's would 0f course be magnified greatly... or one would hope.

2) Responsibility

Wabbit was my first pet. To have to take care of another living thing is such a responsibility. To feed it, change its water, to entertain it, to care for its complex physiological, psychological needs. It nearly drove me mad as I strove to read its mind. Wabbit was immensely clever. It normally took him a day to escape his new enclosure... At night, I would lie in bed awake with the fear that he would escape and hurt itself. I remember sitting by his enclosure and just wondering about he was thinking. Perhaps he was trying to read my mind too.

3) The struggle in a parent's heart with regards to letting the child run free or keeping the child safe.

I knew that Wabbit wanted to leave the enclosure, he wanted to explore on his padded paws, most of all he wanted to be free. I so desperately wanted him to be happy, yet I wanted more for him to be safe. So I started forming ideas to bribe him... Perhaps I'll buy him something to play with, I'll let him run about but only under my supervision. (Never got to put them into action...) Our parents must have felt the same turmoil. The struggle to do what is right, the struggle to let go, exactly like Siddhartha and his son.

4) How to watch someone die.

Wabbit was very sick. He had seizure after seizure, he struggled to breathe, his heart stopped and restarted. Sometimes his seizures were so strong they contorted his tiny body twisting it with pain. Once he even screamed. Wabbit taught me how to watch someone die.

5) What death means.

Death creates a void. A void that will never be filled because nothing would ever fit exactly in that very unique space created for its existence.

Wabbit may have died, but I shall leave my favorite passage here for him... A passage most of you might have read before on this blog. Wabbit may be gone, but he exists as him in us, his soul remains in those who remember and were affected by him. That will be Wabbit-the Wabbit that enters the future and becomes part of it.

Boris Pasternak's-Dr Zhivago

-Well, what are you?...What is it about you you've always known about yourself? Your kidneys? Your liver? Your blood vessels? No. However far back you go in your memory, it is always in some external, active manifestation of yourself that you come across your identity-in the work of your hands, in your family, in other people. And now listen carefully. You in others-this is your soul. This is what you are. This is what our consciousness has breathed and lived on and enjoyed throughout your life-your soul, your immortality, your life in others. And what now? You have always been in others and you will remain in others. And what does it matter to you if later on that is called your memory? This will be you-the you that enters the future and becomes part of it.