carolynandlatte
Member Since 2009
I woke this morning kicking a cat, sleeping at my feet. Not since Latte was 14yrs old have I done that (it took her that long to get tired of being kicked off the bed :lol: ). I was confused at first. My foster, Tippie does not sleep at my feet. She sleeps ON my head...ALWAYS :? At first, half asleep it did not phase me. A second, then third time and I realized what I was doing. I had to check. Just like Latte, she just repositioned herself and stayed at my feet. A coincidence, I am sure. But strange to have this happen on the two year anniversary of setting Latte free.
Latte (and I) had a really tough 3.5yrs after she had the acute renal failure. The year after losing her was tougher than I expected. I really struggled with remembering the good. My mind was so clouded with the illnesses she developed, and the guilt. Last year on this anniversary I was moving from the place we had last been together. It was tough, but a good distraction. In the end, I think it was the best thing for me. It freed my mind somewhat of the sick Latte, and memories of her healthy days started coming in waves. I think having my current foster has been helpful in redeveloping these memories. I am constantly comparing, and finding how completely opposite Latte was to Tippie. A friend of mine was commenting a few months ago how Tippie is a cat...mischievous and always acting on instinct. Latte, she had more human qualities. It's an odd thing to say. In retrospect it is so true.
Latte was my best friend for 18yrs. She was always by my side, whacking her long beautiful tail at me. :mrgreen: She was playful, but much more concerned about looking goofy. When she was a kitten, we used to throw wadded paper down the stairway for her to fetch. She would only bring it back to our feet if we went around the corner and did not watch. Latte was a talker. I swear she always knew what I was saying and responded appropriately. We could hold conversations for hours. She tolerated long absences from me when I would go on vacation or places for work. Always, and I mean ALWAYS more affectionate and appreciative of me when I came home. I almost always came home to a shirt she pulled out of the laundry, covered in her hair. She loved my smell! My bath girl. Every night I took a bath and she was right there...rolling around in my dirty clothes until she fell asleep. Latte was everybody's friend (unless you were a stranger to me). She would rub against people, sit in the middle of the room and insist on being part of the conversation. :lol: I was greeted daily at the door. As a young'en I stepped on the poor thing so many times because she had to be right at my feet. Apparently I did not give her enough attention because she was constantly trying to attack them. My chair thief. My well mannered girl. My warrior princess who fought and fought and fought, until she had nothing left to give but memories of her existence.
I learned a lot by having Latte in my life. One of the benefactors of this is my current foster, Tippie. Latte was my first cat. I got her on my 21st birthday. I was a college student and did not think much about anything other than giving her food, water, and some love. I never really thought about buying her toys or special treats...until she was too old to care much about them. We just used what we had around the house. I spoiled her quite a bit once she got sick, but I often feel quite a bit of guilt for not doing so earlier in her life. Because of this Tippie has to be one of the most spoiled cats ever. A day does not go by that I wonder how much Latte would have loved this toy or that toy, a kitty condo, fresh nip, etc. How did she live without a kickaroo?!?! Then I apologize to her, followed by a thank you. It is because of her and my mistakes (or neglect) that another kitty is getting everything and then some. I also make sure to tell Tippie she should thank Latte! :mrgreen:
Whew! This is long, sorry (but thank you for letting me share)!
For those who have recently lost, or still struggle from a loss...it really does get better in time. And that, is coming from a non believer. SOmeone who wanted to smack every person who told them the same words. The heartache never goes away completely, there may always be a tinge of guilt, or a difficult memory that pops up. In time, it gets quickly replaced with the feeling of love and happy memories.
Here is a poem I shared last year. I longed to reach the stage they refer to in the last paragraph. I think I have finally made it.
Gradually, you will learn acquaintance
With the invisible form of your departed;
And when the work of grief is done,
The wound of loss will heal
And you will have learned
To wean your eyes
From that gap in the air
And be able to enter the hearth
In your soul where your loved one
Has awaited your return
All the time.
John O’Donohue
For more photos, click here (and hope it works! :lol: )
http://lattekitty.shutterfly.com/pictures
Latte (and I) had a really tough 3.5yrs after she had the acute renal failure. The year after losing her was tougher than I expected. I really struggled with remembering the good. My mind was so clouded with the illnesses she developed, and the guilt. Last year on this anniversary I was moving from the place we had last been together. It was tough, but a good distraction. In the end, I think it was the best thing for me. It freed my mind somewhat of the sick Latte, and memories of her healthy days started coming in waves. I think having my current foster has been helpful in redeveloping these memories. I am constantly comparing, and finding how completely opposite Latte was to Tippie. A friend of mine was commenting a few months ago how Tippie is a cat...mischievous and always acting on instinct. Latte, she had more human qualities. It's an odd thing to say. In retrospect it is so true.
Latte was my best friend for 18yrs. She was always by my side, whacking her long beautiful tail at me. :mrgreen: She was playful, but much more concerned about looking goofy. When she was a kitten, we used to throw wadded paper down the stairway for her to fetch. She would only bring it back to our feet if we went around the corner and did not watch. Latte was a talker. I swear she always knew what I was saying and responded appropriately. We could hold conversations for hours. She tolerated long absences from me when I would go on vacation or places for work. Always, and I mean ALWAYS more affectionate and appreciative of me when I came home. I almost always came home to a shirt she pulled out of the laundry, covered in her hair. She loved my smell! My bath girl. Every night I took a bath and she was right there...rolling around in my dirty clothes until she fell asleep. Latte was everybody's friend (unless you were a stranger to me). She would rub against people, sit in the middle of the room and insist on being part of the conversation. :lol: I was greeted daily at the door. As a young'en I stepped on the poor thing so many times because she had to be right at my feet. Apparently I did not give her enough attention because she was constantly trying to attack them. My chair thief. My well mannered girl. My warrior princess who fought and fought and fought, until she had nothing left to give but memories of her existence.
I learned a lot by having Latte in my life. One of the benefactors of this is my current foster, Tippie. Latte was my first cat. I got her on my 21st birthday. I was a college student and did not think much about anything other than giving her food, water, and some love. I never really thought about buying her toys or special treats...until she was too old to care much about them. We just used what we had around the house. I spoiled her quite a bit once she got sick, but I often feel quite a bit of guilt for not doing so earlier in her life. Because of this Tippie has to be one of the most spoiled cats ever. A day does not go by that I wonder how much Latte would have loved this toy or that toy, a kitty condo, fresh nip, etc. How did she live without a kickaroo?!?! Then I apologize to her, followed by a thank you. It is because of her and my mistakes (or neglect) that another kitty is getting everything and then some. I also make sure to tell Tippie she should thank Latte! :mrgreen:
Whew! This is long, sorry (but thank you for letting me share)!
For those who have recently lost, or still struggle from a loss...it really does get better in time. And that, is coming from a non believer. SOmeone who wanted to smack every person who told them the same words. The heartache never goes away completely, there may always be a tinge of guilt, or a difficult memory that pops up. In time, it gets quickly replaced with the feeling of love and happy memories.
Here is a poem I shared last year. I longed to reach the stage they refer to in the last paragraph. I think I have finally made it.
When you lose someone you love,
Your life becomes strange,
The ground beneath you becomes fragile,
Your thoughts make your eyes unsure;
And some dead echo drags your voice down
Where words have no confidence
Your heart has grown heavy with loss;
And though this loss has wounded others too,
No one knows what has been taken from you
When the silence of absence deepens.
Flickers of guilt kindle regret
For all that was left unsaid or undone.
There are days when you wake up happy;
Again inside the fullness of life,
Until the moment breaks
And you are thrown back
Onto the black tide of loss.
Days when you have your heart back,
You are able to function well
Until in the middle of work or encounter,
Suddenly with no warning,
You are ambushed by grief.
It becomes hard to trust yourself.
All you can depend on now is that
Sorrow will remain faithful to itself.
More than you, it knows its way
And will find the right time
To pull and pull the rope of grief
Until that coiled hill of tears
Has reduced to its last drop.
Your life becomes strange,
The ground beneath you becomes fragile,
Your thoughts make your eyes unsure;
And some dead echo drags your voice down
Where words have no confidence
Your heart has grown heavy with loss;
And though this loss has wounded others too,
No one knows what has been taken from you
When the silence of absence deepens.
Flickers of guilt kindle regret
For all that was left unsaid or undone.
There are days when you wake up happy;
Again inside the fullness of life,
Until the moment breaks
And you are thrown back
Onto the black tide of loss.
Days when you have your heart back,
You are able to function well
Until in the middle of work or encounter,
Suddenly with no warning,
You are ambushed by grief.
It becomes hard to trust yourself.
All you can depend on now is that
Sorrow will remain faithful to itself.
More than you, it knows its way
And will find the right time
To pull and pull the rope of grief
Until that coiled hill of tears
Has reduced to its last drop.
Gradually, you will learn acquaintance
With the invisible form of your departed;
And when the work of grief is done,
The wound of loss will heal
And you will have learned
To wean your eyes
From that gap in the air
And be able to enter the hearth
In your soul where your loved one
Has awaited your return
All the time.
John O’Donohue
For more photos, click here (and hope it works! :lol: )
http://lattekitty.shutterfly.com/pictures
