MissingK8

MissingK8
Location
Bedlam in the Finger Lakes, New York,
Birthday
March 26
Title
mom. wife. artist calling the muse back to herself.
Bio
i am an artist. i love the map of the face. i am a jewelry designer. i am trying to begin working again after a decade of our daughter's illness, death and mourning. i love the color green, dry brit wit, the humor of dylan moran and irish beer. i hate injustice. i am a staunch republican, but only in regards to ireland. i have always marched to my own, silent drummer and taught my children to do the same. it comes with a price, but the beat we hear is compelling.

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FEBRUARY 23, 2010 11:14PM

The compassion of a cat named Bird...

Rate: 25 Flag

Caitie was always a cat person. she loved all animals (well, not moths. she felt moths were evil butterflies with no morals at all), but she had a special connection with cats. when she was a toddler her nickname was CaitieCat. she could snap her fingers and cats would follow her around. i never saw a feline that was too feral to be calmed by just a whisper from her.

the picture in my banner is a colored-pencil painting i did of Bird. he is the loveliest shade of grey bound with starlight. Bird was cait's cat; he had struggled into her lap and claimed her as she looked over all the kittens she had to choose from. he trailed after her like a puppy, allowed himself to be dressed in baby clothes and would chirp to her like a, well a bird.

as a kitten he would hang onto her pants leg as she walked around the house so she named him Burdock. then one day whilst playing he began running around the kitchen like a crazed banshee on speed and didn't stop til he ran into the fridge. he then sat for a minute or 2 and you could almost see the stars circling his head. he had earned the name Birdbrain, Bird for short.

after the diagnosis, a month in hospital and that sweet word 'remission', we made cait a bedroom in the livingroom. she tired easily and the stairs became too much. Bird would curl up next to her, squirming her out of the way to make himself more comfortable if necessary. he was and remains a big kitty. she would read, he would purr. when she napped he would stand guard. at night he would start out by her feet only have his head next to her's on the pillow by morning.

once he woke her up by dropping a (dead) daddy long legs into her mouth! while she was a wee bit upset she saw it as the honor he meant it to be and accepted it with as much dignity as she could muster.

as the word remission morphed into relapse some months later, it meant more hospital stays again. Bird would walk around the house calling for her. he'd drag her favorite orchid-colored bra around with him. he'd carry her much loved novelty-topped pens from room to room, putting them in a pile as if to build a cairn.

once we returned home the behavior stopped only to be repeated each time we were away.

Bird always slept with caitie. he might prowl for a bit checking out the food dish or just making his rounds but he returned to her without fail.

that terrible night we lost her, he was frightened by the emts and other people who responded to my 911 call. he lurked in the bathroom doorway for a minute but then scurried to hide under cait's bed.

when we returned hours later it was as a threesome. a bereft, destroyed threesome whose lives had been changed forever. bill made me lay down with him. i remember just saying over and over through my sobs 'i want her back! i want her back!' though exhausted and in shock i dreaded shutting my eyes for fear of sleeping; that would mean waking up and facing the horror all over again. i wanted to die. i didn't care who it hurt: my son whom i love every bit as much as my daughter, my husband...i just wanted to be dead and not deal with any more fucking pain.

out of nowhere Bird appeared and put his front feet on my side of the bed. he slowly climbed up next to me and literally put his face on mine, rubbing at my tears. he then pawed the blanket, crawled underneath and curled up by my stomach, spooning much the way caitie and i had done so many times.

i finally did sleep, waking with Bird in my arms still under the covers. the knowledge came with consciousness and i began counting how many hours i'd had to exist without my sweet girl...it's been 4 hours, it's been 6 hours...15 hours and i am still here. how is that possible? four years later i still measure everything as Before Cait Left and After Cait Left.

it's been said that animals are more keenly aware of things than we are. he seemed to know that i was in such pain that words do not exist to describe it.  he had never even slept on our bed unless caitie was napping there. i like to think that she sent him to me for our mutual comfort. she knew neither one of us could make it on our own. 

Bird never once carried anything of cait's around in his mouth again.  he knew she was gone from this world. sometimes he will sit and stare intensely at the air with an almost anticipatory look to him, eyes focused on a specific spot. what does he see that i don't? 

but that is a tale for another day, perhaps. 

i love you, baby. 

 

 

 

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Oh, you sweet sweet woman, dearest of mothers....

Such love to you tonight. Such love.
Again, this is so endearing.
Well done, rated.
I can not find words...a pain without end.

Rated.
You write these things in such a way that my words would diminish them. This is one of my favorite pieces I've ever read. Love to you_r
Thank you for sharing this with us all, and to Kyle for directing me here. My cat Mi-ro is sitting on my lap (I will never again say "in my way") as I write this. They know. They just do.(r)
You have no idea how this has touched me. My wife and I just went through the same ordeal with our son and we are now trying to heal from it. Thank you for sharing this story with all of us. God bless you.
This is beautiful... thank you for sharing it. It is now one of my favorite cat stories.
They really do know and they can comfort us as no human can. Thank you for sharing your painful story, wishing you peace.
thank you all so much. i have never been able to blog more than a paragraph. now i can't seem to stop.

torman: you are so new to this path of grief. be kind to yourselves. don't expect a level road. i am so sorry for the loss of your son. we are not meant to bury our children.

please pm me if you ever need to rant, chat or anything.
I cannot begin to imagine your pain, even though I have children that straddle Caitie's age. I know intellectually that losing either one of them would be a crushing agony, but I know my imagination falls short. Still, being a parent myself, maybe I can offer you some insight, though you did not ask it. I guess if you don't want to hear it, you can stop here.

Nobody can tell you how to feel, and I would not dare to presume that I could do that. But imagine Caitie in heaven looking down on you. Is she? I'm not wise enough to know how the afterlife works, but imagine she is. Do you think it would make her happy to see you suffering so? Would she want you to mourn her forever? Do you think she is glad to see your pain? She knows that you love her more than you love life itself. She always knew that. It is not a betrayal of her to let go the pain. The only betrayal would be to forget her, and you know you will never do that. It would bring joy to her to see you happy again; to see you celebrate her life. She would want that for you. You know she would. Imagine it was you looking down upon your son. Would you want him to mourn you for years, or would you want him to be happy? Of course you'd want him to remember you, but you'd want him to remember you with love, not with grief. Catie would want the same thing for you. She does want the same thing for you.

I wish you peace.
sir sidney-when i talk to cait, which i do many times everyday, i always remind her that she has to be patient with me.

writing here is allowing me to exorcise some of the anguish. it is making me put into words ideas that have, in some cases taken on a life of their own. self therapy, perhaps.

after 5 yrs of fighting along side someone, fighting for their very life, not much after that seems important. i take care of my family, i love them, i do what needs doing...but it is a hard slog to get back to any sort of normalcy, whatever that would be for us now.

i appreciate your thoughts. and i have thought them all. the head and the heart are sometimes in sync and sometimes not. grief is not an illness to be gotten over, but a way of life to be integrated into the whole of the person. it takes a long time to learn to juggle grief and joy. i am trying.

celebrating her life is what i am hoping is going on in these writings.
I understand. I wish you all the best.
"(well, not moths. she felt moths were evil butterflies with no morals at all), "

And they don't have any morals at all!! :)

Rated.
I lost my dearest friend to a completely unexpected accident. She was taken too early from us, from her mother. My friend's horse bucked her and she fell. She hit her head and never woke up.

I don't envy your struggle, though your family was able to say goodbye, at least.

Anyway, keep writing. It is a catharsis and the pen allows our poisons to seep out. Sometimes vitriol is all we can muster, no?
What a painful story, and what a remarkable cat.
Thank you for sharing your pain through your beautifully written prose. I cannot imagine your loss but I am glad you have the gift of Bird who has shared the love of your daughter with you. Please keep writing.
Oh, sometimes a cat can be the greatest comfort, in a situation where it feels like there is none. I believe that she did send him in to you, and that she was there, too... I'm glad you're writing this story! Much Love to you, Julie
Such a beautiful story, so sweet, so sad.
so totally heartbreaking....I am sorry..
endearing, touching, beautiful. rated.
Cats know so much more than they're telling. Lovely story-telling.
Well woven. A story about a cat? about a child? about a mother? beautifully done.
Tears streaming down my face, I don't have words that would do justice. I am glad I clicked the link. So much love to you.
How do they know what they know? I weep as I read your words. I send love.