so i had a funeral for my goldfish of 6.5 years this morning while my beau and his poor in town guests watched on. (they had no idea what they were in for) we played purple rain and tim dug a little grave into the small portion of earth in the back patio. he changed fishey's algae-ridden tank yesterday while i was taking a design workshop in maryland. i received a text that just said "call me when you can." never a good sign. so we texted back and forth, and he revealed that fishey didn't react well to the water change, and didn't make it. my eyes welled up with tears for a moment. i was especially sad because i hadn't said "goodbye" before i rushed out the door that morning, and somehow felt that it was an end to an era. oddly enough, he had TONS of personality, loved to be fed, would react anytime you walked by the tank, and he was pre-tranquil space. for some odd reason, i measure life as pre-TS and post-TS start-up.
i bought him at the local pet store during a time when i needed one more pal beyond my black cat bonnard. i'd recently asked for space in a relationship and was missing that partnership so i thought, "ah ha, i'll get a fish." he was one of the feeders that they feed to other fish but SO beautiful. i saved him and loved him for a long time. yes, the funeral may have been a bit much but he deserved a proper goodbye. as a little girl, we buried all my turtles, fish, cats, newts, hamsters, and dogs in the backyard so i felt it was normal - tim's out of town guests did not. i told them they were the pallbearers and hoped it would make them feel more included. ;) fishey's goodbye is a reminder to me of the fragility of life. we truly never know when a "goodbye" may be the last or how much certain things mean to us until they're gone. goodbye to fishey and hello to the priviledge of living this life.