To all of you who have been following my fish, Merton, and his view of the world from a bowl in my living room, I am so, so sorry to tell you that he recently got very sick. He died peacefully.
Merty captured my heart profoundly, and I still haven't quite accepted his death. He has been a constant part of my 25th year, my best year. After meeting Chuck and making a new life with him, I didn't think I could be happier or more in love. But a little fish made this possible.
It is hard to describe what Merty has done for my life and my perspective without sounding like an overgrown child who needs more people friends. But I'll try anyway. I've spent a lot of time looking at the world through Merty's eyes. He has made me a better, less self-centered person. He's allowed me to see the petty things that occupy too much of my mind's real estate, and genuinely laugh at myself. He's deepened my awareness of my capacity to love others, and be loved in return. I imagine that he gave me a glimpse into what it might be like to raise another human being.
Chuck and I were able to give Merty the farewell he deserved. Early one morning, we took him to a glimmering river, and let him float downstream. I like to believe that we've sent him back to his true home.
A few days ago, I started my 26th year. And, like a true best friend, Chuck gave me a gift that shifted my mind from the sorrow of loss, to the joy of new beginnings:
His name is Pembrook Hazlitt Wordsworth. He's a baby -- only a third of the size of Merty when I first got him. I can't keep my eyes off him, and so look forward to discovering what he will teach me about myself and the world that he and I share. When he's settled into his new home, he will start sharing his thoughts on @ericasfish. He has some big fins to fill, but I hope you give him a chance, and follow him. I certainly will.
I will never forget you, Robert Jove Merton.
