So Long, Division

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Sigur Ros

The review of basic math is underway, and I am doing important things like choosing the journal in which I will work. I selected a beautiful green one with writing systems from around the world on its cover. Inspiration is as important to me as the work itself.


I am doing math now as I grieve. Oz was a special cat, one who earned the nickname Ozhole throughout his nine years with our family. He was known for his habit of digging through the pantry to get at food even after he had a large dinner; his silent meows; his love for boxes and his little cave; and the way in which he antagonized the other cats to steal their spot in front of the fireplace.

 

Let us begin with the vocabulary we will need. The dividend is the number which will be divided. This represents my heart, with all its agonies. The divisor is the number the dividend will be divided by, also known as grief. We are left with a quotient: The memories of Oz that I will keep safely tucked in my tear-tender soul.

Long division, step one. Take the divisor and count how many times that divisor will go into the dividend’s first number on the left. In our example, the divisor, 7, cannot fit into the leftmost dividend value, 6. So we write 0 on the top of the problem. Meanwhile, reflect on the first memory you have of Oz, that cool November day when you both saw him hiding under his round bed at the pound. One, remember sitting with him in the getting-to-know-you room that the pound has. Giggle again at his skinny, short tail.

Long division, step two. Bring the zero down and subtract it from 6. Next, lower the 1 from the next left number of the dividend. In this case, we have a 1. We are now dealing with the larger number of 61. Carry the memory down of Oz’s ride home from the pound, how he popped out of his cardboard carrier box and mauled your finger, all in love.

Step three. Determine that 7 goes into 61 a total of 8 times Place the 8 atop your division table. Multiply 7 by 8 to get 56. Subtract this from 61 and get a remainder of 5. While you do this, you sing with Oz on his last night with you in this lifetime. You wonder now if there is a life after death, a continuation of the soul when it has bid goodbye to this corporeal coil. So the two of you sing “You are My Sunshine” and “Nearer My God to Thee” and watch a fireplace on television because your actual fireplace is broken.

Step four. Continue to move your way through the various numbers of the dividend. In our example, the dividend consists of five numbers. Beginning with 6, work your way all through the rightmost number, 8. When you are done with this 8, you have a remainder of 5. Write this with your quotient. Four, Oz was an escape artist who made a run for it every time the garage door was opened, but he never made it very far, because he got scared and pretended to sniff a flower or a pebble until a human could catch up to him and scoop him up, conveying him back inside.

8769 with a remainder of 5.


Step five. Come to realize that Oz was never a divisor or a dividend or even a quotient. He was multiplication. He took 8769 and multiplied it by 7, took those numbers and made them stretch when he broke out of the garage in the middle of the night to cuddle. Each time he followed you, having to be in whatever room you were in, he made the world bigger. Oz was the lattice method. Oz was exponential.

Step six. Keep the memories local, close to your heart, and remember that you called his favorite fabric cave Ozcaux. Look at that cave now, and see that it is occupied by another cat, Bijou. Think to yourself: But I always stand up.

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