Thirteen days ago, my family said goodbye to Luna, the cat I had convinced myself would live forever. But forever finally ended after 18 1/2 years. I was hesitant to post about this because I know many people are experiencing devastating losses right now — jobs, homes, family members falling to COVID. How can I talk about the loss of a cat when so many are going through so much? But then I figured, this blog has always been about my day-to-day life in the bigger picture. And since I’ve frequently mentioned my pets, I decided to share the news.
Luna came to us as an eight-week-old fluff that could fit in one hand, back when my two children were little, the younger one still in preschool. I chose her name based on the small white circle on her chest that looked like a full moon in the night sky. She never was a large cat, weighing between seven and eight pounds for most of her adult life. But she was the boss of our younger, ginger tom, who was twice her weight. She stuck around and helped us raise our two kids, seeing them through to adulthood. Through all of our ups and downs, flux and change, Luna was a mainstay.
She and my younger son bonded strongly and immediately. He lived away from us for a while, and then moved back in. After his return, Luna didn’t want to let him out of her sight, and spent a lot of time in his room. In the last weeks, he placed her bed right by his desk, so she could be next to him while he worked on development projects.
I was off work from my day job last week, something I had planned long in advance as a time to catch up on projects around the house and kind of decompress from stress. As it turned out, being home every day put it right in my face that she wasn’t there. It wasn’t very decompressing.
But an interesting thing happened last Saturday. If I believe in messages from the universe, which I do on some days, this might have been one. I went on a long walk — nearly three miles — because that’s my best therapy. At one point, a black cat appeared out of a wooded area and literally chased me down, running full speed to catch up with me in order to rub against my legs and get pets from me. It was like the universe knew I needed a bit of black cat in my life, or as if this cat was channeling the one I lost. My rational mind knows it was a random happening, but I’m not listening to my rational mind on this one.
One thought on “Yet Another Goodbye”
Oh, Ida. ❤ My heart feels for you. Who is to say this grief isn't on scale with all the losses we're all feeling right now? Your collective, empathic mourning speaks to us of love and comfort and connection, however it is embodied. I love the visitation of a little fur-covered angel.