13 September 2012

pause. a love letter from my husband.


pause.






Front cover (left), back (right).



Today I received a precious gift. My husband had been collecting photographs of Fog and Lily - that much I knew - but not what he planned to do with them. "There is a parcel on its way right now!" He was so excited when he saw the tracking information this morning, so for the second day in a row I found myself waiting by the doorbell. It rang off the hook in the midst of Tristan's nap, but did not disturb him. He'd run a mile and is coming down with a head cold. He was out. This left me time to weep. Brandon isn't a man with many words when it's come to the fire, loss of my cats, and the PTSD I've struggled with. Instead he leaves me doodles of my kittens as angels and makes me smile by recalling their antics occasionally. Now this.



pause : paws : video game controller ("pause!" something I'd cry out if he was winning again)



Each page is a sentimental image that stirs my heart and memory; treasures. Moments caught in time - frozen. I don't look at images of them often because they're there when I close my eyes. Haunting and slinking.




Every day I remember them. I haven't stopped looking back, though I'm moving forward again.







Dreamy Fog sleeping on a stolen monster - I've replaced the monster, but the Fog remains irreplaceable.
There were two poems included in the book and those are what really did me in. One, T.S. Eliot, "The Naming of Cats." Fog came with his name - rumored to be named after another poem by Carl Sandburg. Lily was a name I chose after losing a kitten named Clover (named for luck, something she was short on). I was so afraid to take in another cat so I chose the name Lily - another flower - meaning "dare to love again."

I dared, I loved, I lost.

No matter how deep the pain - the love was worth it.

Thank you, Brandon. They loved you, too. xOx.



my cats by Charles Bukowski

I know. I know.
they are limited, have different
needs and 
concerns.

but I watch and learn from them. 
I like the little they know, 
which is so 
much. 

they complain but never 
worry,
they walk with a surprising dignity. 
they sleep with a direct simplicity that
humans just can’t 
understand.

their eyes are more 
beautiful than our eyes. 
and they can sleep 20 hours 
a day 
without 
hesitation or 
remorse. 

when I am feeling 
low 
all I have to do is
watch my cats 
and my 
courage 
returns. 

I study these 
creatures. 

they are my 
teachers.




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