One year ago on March 31, 2012, I let my Bear go. What a horrible time that was, from his cancer diagnosis in January to his peaceful death that day. I tried so hard to keep him alive, against all reasonable odds. His sister and forever partner Holly had died two years before owing to unexpected complications from cancer surgery - a staggering loss to him and to me. We picked up the pieces and moved on, bringing Aidan into our lives because he needed a home and was considered unadoptable because of his serious heart problems. They became friends, but as my bestie Mags observed, Bear was never the same after Holly died. As they are portrayed below, so they lived...my precious velcro cats. I miss them so much. Having animals forces you to face loss and grief on a level that I have found worse than when our humans go. I hope there is a happy place for them now, where they are healthy, whole and new. Most of all, I hope they are together. One of my favorite sonnets by Edna St. Vincent Millay is posted here at my computer and reminds me daily of Bear:
Mindful of you the sodden earth in spring,
And all the flowers that in the springtime grow,
And dusty roads, and thistles, and the slow
Rising of the round moon, all throats that sing
The summer through, and each departing wing,
And all the nests that the bared branches show,
And all winds that in any weather blow,
And all the storms that the four seasons bring.
You go no more on your exultant feet
Up paths that only mist and morning knew,
Or watch the wind, or listen to the beat
Of a bird’s wings too high in air to view,—
But you were something more than young and sweet
And fair,—and the long year remembers you.
And all the flowers that in the springtime grow,
And dusty roads, and thistles, and the slow
Rising of the round moon, all throats that sing
The summer through, and each departing wing,
And all the nests that the bared branches show,
And all winds that in any weather blow,
And all the storms that the four seasons bring.
You go no more on your exultant feet
Up paths that only mist and morning knew,
Or watch the wind, or listen to the beat
Of a bird’s wings too high in air to view,—
But you were something more than young and sweet
And fair,—and the long year remembers you.
Bear and Holly - always connected. |
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