Making Rounds with Oscar: The Extraordinary Gift of an Ordinary Cat - By David Dosa Page 0,61

the world both inside and out. Each day he was there to greet me at the front door of the unit, and, well, he seemed to escort me down the hall to Mom’s room. He’d stay with me for the whole visit.

“I really warmed to the little guy, you know? Soon I even found his presence comforting. When I felt anxious, which I often did, I would talk aloud to Oscar and he seemed to listen. He never passed judgment or offered unwanted advice, he just listened. When I needed a break from the room, Oscar would stay with Mom while I went out to stretch my legs or grab a bite to eat. Sometimes he would even escort me down the hallway toward the unit doors.

“You know, Dr. Dosa, I had a lot of time to think, sitting there with Mom, and I wondered how I would feel when she finally passed. I had experienced so much guilt during the long duration of Mom’s illness that I had begun to think of guilt as my birthright, something passed down to me like a family heirloom. How had I not noticed my mother’s illness sooner? Did I do a good enough job dividing my time and attention between my children, my full-time job, and my needy mother? Did I do the right thing by putting her into the nursing home when I did?

“No matter how much I did there always seemed so much more to do, so much always undone.”

Cyndy paused for a minute, to laugh or cry, I wasn’t sure. I don’t think she was sure either.

“Now I realized that I was beginning to feel guilty for not feeling guilty. In truth, my mother’s death seemed a natural end to her suffering. But why do I feel okay with it? I asked myself. Searching for solace, I grabbed my mother’s rosary from the bedside table and began to recite the Lord’s Prayer aloud:

Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name.

Thy Kingdom come thy Will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread

And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

Amen.

“When I was finished, I sat back down again, suddenly feeling very tired. For the first time I had a strong desire to go home. I spontaneously murmured a heartfelt prayer: Please, Lord, just take her.

“I closed my eyes for a moment and was consumed with a flood of loving memories of my mother from years gone by. They were comforting memories, and I allowed myself to almost drift off to sleep, listening to the white noise of the oxygen machine in the background. Suddenly I bolted upright. The noise from the oxygen machine was all I could hear. I looked over at Mom and realized she had stopped snoring. For the first time in days, she appeared peaceful. I looked at my watch. It was 3:00 am.”

“THE NURSE CAME IN a couple of minutes later and listened to my mother with her stethoscope, confirming what I already knew.

“She gave me her condolences and then left to telephone whoever was on call. For a while I just sat quietly in the chair watching my mother. Inside, I knew that she was gone but I still watched her, searching for movement. I leaned over and kissed my mother on the forehead, telling her that her beloved late husband was waiting for her. Almost immediately, I felt this incredible sense of closure, like both my mother and I were finally free.”

Cyndy started to smile ever so slightly. “After some time passed, I got up and left the room to get a cup of coffee. I wasn’t quite ready to call my family yet; I needed to wake up. I remember it being eerily quiet on the unit. As I’m walking down the hall, I hear this pitter-patter of paws hitting the linoleum floors next to me. I looked down and saw Oscar walking next to me.”

I could picture Oscar walking alongside Cyndy, matching her gait, keeping pace.

“So, he was, like, your companion for those three long weeks?” I asked.

Cyndy nodded and I could see the awe dawning on her expression. I had seen this look a lot, of late, as people talked to me about Oscar.

“Doctor, I remember walking into the bathroom to splash some cold water over my face. When I left the bathroom, Oscar was right there