Yesterday, we set our precious little cat free from her old, frail, and failing body. She loved us, and adored being with us; but oh, as all us mortals eventually come to the same place, she was pretty much done with that old body, time to cast it away and be set free.
We thought that a very poor final gift was to put her in the box she hates, drag her to the office she hates, and have her last experiences in this mortal coil be unpleasant... But instead, we took her to the back patio. Karen made the whole back yard shine with beauty, putting candles out and even some roses, sent by a friend's daughter (who may not have had any idea of what was planned) that just lifted us all.
We were graced by Dr. Robin Holmes, of a group here in Pasadena called Gifts of Peace. Karen quite correctly told Robin last night, "You're a pastor." She ministered to us as well as the dear little cat. I'm sure many of my readers aren't in the Pasadena (just east of Los Angeles) are, but if you come to this difficult place, you want people like her to help you.
A very hard time, a very beautiful time, a very precious time. Wheelchair and all mattered not a bit, and being "disabled" actually enabled me to cradle Nuala in my arms and let both of us be at peace with... everything. We MSers are ... inconvenienced, let's use a gentle word, by things like wheelchairs, but last night, it didn't matter.
Today is the first day since we moved in here that we haven't had Nuala with us. She loved it here since the day we brought her over, she had spent her life as an indoor cat before, but when I showed her the cat door, joy simply radiated from her--"You mean I get to go outside?"
There is but one more thing to do, to close out... Robin will bring ashes back in a special, and beautiful, box. And, as I promised and Robin agreed... then we'd have tea, and celebrate together.
So what were MS's gifts, in this intense time? Being able to hold the cat and not care about anything because the chair was holding both of us up. Living in a world where I have immediate, personal experience of "this body ain't nothing" and feeling that the truth of the moment, and the touch of the warmth of spirit, is what really matters.
Well done, MS. Well done.
And so the next chapter begins. As I said to Nuala last night, I won't say goodbye. You'll be back... after all, she already is. Somehow, somewhen, somewhere.
And when we reconnect... we'll both purr.
2 comments:
My condolences... Losing our 'fur babies' is difficult, and leaves an emptiness which is hard to fill. I'm glad that you're at peace with the loss.
Robert, I have just caught up with my blog reading to enable me to see this post. My heart goes out to you. As usual, you find the gift in a situation, however dark.
PS And I don't know what has happened in my absence that I can't seem to sign my usual way, but this is Judy of Peace Be With You blog.
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