My kettle whistled this morning and I made up my tea, but my heart wasn't
in it.  I just sat there for a bit until my tea went cold.  In just a
little while I was going to be welcoming a beautiful chocolate-colored
lady named Chuckles to the Bridge.  Now, most fuzzies have questions
when they come here - oh, do they have questions!  But this morning, I
just didn't feel like I knew how to answer them all.  I am a wise and
wonderful Bridge greeter; or at least, I'm supposed to be.  There is
so much I'm supposed to know about things up here at the Bridge, but
sometimes I just don't.  Oh, I know all about the Afterworld.  You could
ask me where anything is here, or why this thing was so, or why that
thing was so, and I could tell you - if it was about the Bridge.  But
about the Hoomin world; well, that would be a different story...
 
Chuckles had been with her mom and dad for over five years, and had lived
with them until she was ten years old.  She had fought adrenal disease
for such a long time, but it had finally worn her down until she could
not fight it any longer.  Even the strongest fuzzies tire and their
bodies wear out because of this disease, and Chuckles was no different.
It was just one of the many things that were troubling me this morning.
 
I took a look at my new-arrivals list.  It seems that Chuckle's mom,
Debi, was away when she had left for the Bridge, but her dad, Keith, was
there to watch over her.  He told Chuckles as she laid there that he and
Debi loved her so very much, and that in just a little while she would be
going to a place where her body would no longer feel tired or be in pain.
Keith had called Debi on the phone to tell her about Chuckles, but even
though Debi tried her very best to get home to her, the car could just
not go fast enough to make it there in time.  Here at the Bridge, we have
wings and can fly to places sometimes before we even think about it, but
in the Hoomin world it is so very different.  Debi never got a chance to
say goodbye to Chuckles before she left for the Bridge.  It was just
another thing that troubled me about the Hoomin world, but it was of no
matter now.  Chuckles was already on her way.
 
I started walking towards the Bridge.  It was a beautiful morning.
The sun formed a beautiful halo as it rose through the trees, and the
stream under the Bridge glistened and sparkled in its rays as it slowly
meandered through the Afterworld.  All the birds sang their beautiful
songs, and the clouds formed themselves perfectly in a perfect sky.
Everything was so perfect perfect perfect - and yet, it wasn't.  In
just a few moments I was going to welcome a beautiful fuzzy to this
"perfect" place, one who was coming here from a highly imperfect Hoomin
world.  It just didn't make any sense.  I didn't know how I would do it
this morning.  I felt as if I didn't understand anything.  I needed to
understand why things happened the way they did.  How was I going to
answer any fuzzy's questions if I didn't understand the answers?  How
was I supposed to greet anyone this morning feeling like I did?  I closed
my eyes and kept walking.  My heart was heavy, but my feet knew the way.
 
But they didn't.  I opened my eyes to find myself in a place I didn't
recognize, at least at first.  In front of me there was a table and
chair, and on the table was a glass of hot tea - I could see the steam
rising from it.  I recognized the cup.  It was my own blue cup!  I picked
it up and took a sip.  I recognized the taste of my own special brand of
tea which I drank every morning.  It even had the right amount of sugar
and was properly white!  I put my cup down and took a look around.  My
goodness, I was in my own hidey-hole!  I looked towards the opening,
however, and saw that it was dark outside.  I could see Sirius shining
brightly in the sky.
 
"You are very troubled, my little one.  What can I do to help you?" came
a voice out of nowhere.
 
Startled, I looked down at the table towards the voice.  Sitting across
from me was a very old looking fuzzy with a cup of tea in his paws.  He
was a yellowish-white color, with sagging whiskers and a tail that was
losing its fur.  Crikey!  Who was this, and how did he get in here so
fast, with a cup of tea no less?
 
"Don't you recognize me, little one?  No, no.  Of course you don't," he
said.
 
There was a flash of light that filled my hidey-hole, and across from me
was a blinding ball of light.  It was as if Sirius had come down from the
morning sky and was now in my hidey-hole.  I didn't know what to think
at first, but slowly my heart warmed and I knew exactly who this was.
 
A voice sounded,
"Yes, you know, don't you?  You might not remember, but you've always
known."
 
Suddenly, the light was gone and the old fuzzy with the ratty tail was
again sitting across from me, a cup of tea in his paws and a smile on
his face.  It was the Boss!
 
"Sometimes what we see isn't what we expect to see, is it?" he said.
 
No, it certainly wasn't.  This was the Boss?  This old, yellow-colored,
droopy-whiskered, rat-tailed fuzzy was the Boss?  But even though my
eyes told me it wasn't so, my warmed heart told me that it was.  I shook
my head and smiled back at him.
 
"You want to understand things, don't you?" he said quietly.
 
I told him that yes I did, and then my emotions flared up and it all came
rushing out of me...
 
"Why do fuzzies in the Hoomin world get sick and suffer so much?  Why
couldn't you make their bodies work better?  You're the Boss!  Why can't
you make their fuzzy bodies perfect?  Why do they have to get sick or
hurt at all?" I said, in a somewhat harsh tone, "And I don't want an
answer that takes you three weeks to explain to me and gives me a
headache.  I just want to know simply why."
 
"Ah, yes, I remember that answer," he laughed.
 
"Well, it wasn't funny.  I don't want a long, complicated answer that
doesn't seem to make any sense anyways, and gives me a headache to boot.
I just want to know why," I said, my paws firmly squeezing my cup of
tea.  He looked at me, nodded his head, and took a sip of tea.
 
"Well, the simple answer is that there never is a simple answer," he said
smiling, "Take a look at me.  What is it that you're expecting to see?
Would this be better?"
 
Suddenly, in the Boss' place was a very young fuzzy who was quite smaller
than before.  He was just a kit.  He was sparkling white, had a full coat
of fur everywhere on his body, and his whiskers twitched straight out as
he wriggled his nose.
 
"Is that better?  Do I look more 'perfect' to you, now?  Am I what you'd
expect ' the Boss' to look like?" he asked.  He only stayed a kit for a
few seconds, and then went back to being the old rat-tailed fuzzy.
 
"Well, I don't know..." I said, unsure of what to think, "When you were
a kit, you certainly didn't seem like what I thought the Boss might look
like."
 
"So, what do you think of how I look now?  Aren't my eyes wrinkled
enough to make me look wise?  Isn't the tail on my fur gone from ages
of switching it back and forth on the ground while I contemplated and
took care of everything?" he questioned, "Isn't how I am really what
you expect to see?"
 
"Why, I guess that it is, but that doesn't really answer my question,"
I replied.
 
"You want to know why Chuckles had to get sick and suffer, don't you?
You want to know why her body didn't stay as healthy as it was when
she was a kit.  Would you want every fuzzy to stay a kit, and never
grow to be the adults that they are eventually to become, with all the
experiences and personality?  Keith and Debi never knew Chuckles as a
kit; they only ever knew her as they found her, a full grown fuzzy, and
yet they loved her just the same.  What part of that would you want to
be different?"
 
I looked at the Boss, my lips pursed for a bit, and I struggled for an
answer.
 
"Why couldn't they have found Chuckles as a kit?  Why did they have to
wait to find her as an adult fuzzy?  Wouldn't that have been better to
find her as a kit?  They could have been with her for her entire life," I
replied, sure that I had found a flaw in his thinking.
 
"Isn't it part of how Keith and Debi found Chuckles that made them love
her exactly as they do now?  Wasn't their compassion for her at that
time a big part of why they love her the way that they do now?" he
asked, "What part of how they found her would you really want to be
different?"
 
"Well, uh... I don't know, but I think that it could have turned out
better than it did," I said, a bit unsure of my own answer.
 
"Why, you're absolutely right.  It's possible that it might have turned
out much better," he said, "It's just that I don't decide those things."
 
"What?" I said incredulously, "What do you mean you don't decide those
things?  You're the Boss, aren't you?"
 
"Oh, yes, I'm the Boss, alright," he said, "And my heart is about as worn
as my tail fur is.  Don't you think that it causes me great pain each
time a fuzzy leaves the Hoomin world for the Bridge?  But again, I don't
really decide when or how that happens."
 
The Boss picked up his tea and took a sip, his whiskers drooping into his
cup.  He put his tea down, and closed his eyes for a second, then opened
them and started to explain.
 
"Sandee, when you're flying around the Bridge with your wings, what is it
that tells you to turn this way or that way?" he asked.
 
"Why, I never really thought about it, I just fly where I want to fly.
Sometimes I want to go here, and sometimes I want to go there, so I just
go where I want to go," I told him, "Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?"
 
"Yes, exactly," he replied, "And sometimes when you're flying, have you
ever miscalculated things and accidentally bumped your head on a tree
branch?"
 
"Yes," I admitted to him, "I did that just the other day.  I didn't hurt
myself, but that's only because nobody at the Bridge ever gets sick or
hurt.  I never really gave it much thought, though... although now that I
think about it, how come you let me bump my head?  That doesn't seem very
nice."
 
"I didn't let you bump your head.  You bumped your head all on your own.
Weren't you flying where you wanted to fly?" he asked.
 
"Yes, but you could have stopped..."
 
"No, I couldn't have," he interrupted, "Because then I would have been
flying for you, and I don't do that.  I love you too much to stop you
from flying where you want to fly, so it's all up to you."
 
"But couldn't you have just flown me around the tree branch?  Then you
could have let me fly where I wanted just as soon as I got past the tree
branch.  That smarted a bit, you know," I replied, a bit indignant.
 
"So, at what point do I start and stop flying for you?  Do you decide
that?" he asked, "What if you make a mistake in deciding?  Do I decide
for you when to decide, of all things?  When does being you stop being
you and start being me?  That's why you fly where you want to fly."
 
"But I don't understand what that has to do with Chuckles or any other
fuzzy who gets sick.  Why does there have to be sickness?" I asked.
 
"Remember when you were flying and bumped your head on the tree branch?"
he said, "I could simply have never made trees.  No trees - no tree
branches.  I don't think it would be very fun for you fuzzies to fly
without having trees to dodge over and under, or to hide behind when you
play hide and seek.  And it's the same in the Hoomin world, although it
is a bit more serious.  Sickness exists only because it has a life on
which it can bind itself.  But where would the Hoomin world be without
life?  Life is the very reason the Hoomin world exists in the first
place."
 
It started to make sense.  But I still had questions.  I wanted to know
why hoomins who loved fuzzies always ended up hurting so much.  It just
didn't seem right.
 
The Boss switched his tail back and forth a bit, and explained, "For the
same reason I don't tell you when or where to fly, I don't tell hoomins
when or who to love.  I just don't do that.  Just as I know that every
once in a while you're going to bump your head, I know that because of
love, someone's heart is bound to be broken.  I don't choose when hoomins
love fuzzies, or even when they love other hoomins.  When hoomins love a
fuzzy, they do it all on their own.  I could have made Chuckle's first
hoomin love her enough to want to give her a forever home if I had
wanted.  Is that what I should have done?  But if I had, neither Keith
nor Debi would have ever gotten to know Chuckles, much less love her in
the way that they eventually did.  When should the love that's inside of
hoomins stop coming from them and start coming from me?  It's just the
same as where you decide to fly.  And just as I gave you the ability to
fly, I gave hoomins their ability to love.  But I would never love for
them.  They love on their own.  It's one of their best qualities.  I
hope you understand."
 
I sighed, and then nodded my head.  I told the Boss that I thought I
understood, but not completely.  He smiled, then laughed and told me that
he could take the next three weeks to explain it to me thoroughly, but
I'd probably get a headache.  Would I like him to start now?
 
"No, that's alright," I snickered, "But thank you.  I think I'll do
alright with it in time."
 
I took a nice, long sip of my tea, but when I put the cup down, the wise
old fuzzy with the drooping whiskers and ratty tail was gone.  Even his
tea cup was gone.  I smiled.  Even though he was gone, I could hear his
words echoing in my head.  I really was starting to understand things,
and felt that I could better answer any question a fuzzy could ask me.
For the second time this morning, I saw that the sun was beginning to
rise in the trees while Sirius faded away.  Sunrise!  That reminded me -
I had a greeting to do on this very wonderful morning.  I came out of
my hidey-hole and started walking towards the Bridge.
 
Everything seemed so different.  The sun, the trees, the birds, the
clouds; they still all seemed as beautiful as they had been, but I saw
them in a different way.  I was almost giddy on my way to the Bridge,
and every once in a while I'd jump up and do a war hop.  When I got to
the Bridge, Chuckles was there waiting for me.  She didn't look like she
was ten years old, at all.  Her chocolate fur was deep and luxurious,
and she looked the picture of health.
 
I introduced myself, and just for fun I tickled her under her chin.  She
chuckled and dooked just like a kit.  I told Chuckles where she was, and
she sighed a bit and told me that she figured that's where she was.  She
looked down, thinking back on her mom and dad in the Hoomin world.  She
already missed them, and was sorry that she didn't get to say goodbye
to her mom, Debi.  I asked her if she loved her mom.  She said that of
course she did, that she loved her very, very much.  I asked her if
saying "goodbye" was just another way of saying that you loved someone.
She said that she had never thought of it that way, but she supposed it
was.  I told her that even if her mom hadn't been able to get home to
say goodbye, that I'm sure that she had told her sometime during that
day that she loved her.  Chuckles said that she was sure that she had.
I told her that if all this was true, there was no reason either one of
them should feel too bad about not saying goodbye.  Chuckles said that
she thought she understood, but it would have been nicer if they could
have.  I told her that I understood, and she looked like she felt a bit
better about it.  She told me that her dad, Keith, had been there holding
her and stroking her head.  He had made it so much easier for her to
leave for the Bridge.  I smiled, thinking about how much both her mom
and dad had really loved her.  I had so much to tell her about things.
 
Being in such a giddy mood, I wanted to show Chuckles all the fun stuff
we had here at the Bridge.  I took her paw and we started walking to her
new hidey-hole.  On the way, we passed a grove of trees.  I looked up
at the branches and smiled.  I asked Chuckles if she was excited about
getting her wings and flying.  She was definitely excited about it, let
me tell you.  Her eyes just sparkled.  I told her that she'd be able to
fly anywhere she wanted to.
 
Anywhere?
 
Absolutely, I told her.  I looked up at the trees.  Just one thing,
I told her - you're going to have to watch out for those branches up
there.  You can really bump your head if you're not careful...
 
Sandee
[Posted in FML issue 5187]