Her tribute to her fallen feline child

This is Molly, Amazing Molly. She was 10 years old and just lost her life to cancer. Rest in peace Molly!

Molly belonged to a colleague of mine.
I sat next to her at one of our regular meetings last week. As I looked over to greet her I noticed that she was not her usual happy go luck self. Of course I asked the question, why so glum and she told me the story. She then handed me a copy of her memoriam chronicling Molly's life with her. As I read it I realized how touched she was and how special Molly was. I though I would share her tribute to Molly as I was moved by the tribute and her compassion.

The tribute read
April 1997: Heard faint meows and found approximately 2 week old kittens in the well of an old house window, in bad shape with glass all around. One was already gone. Molly's eye was so badly infected; they thought she would be blind in it. In true Molly fashion (although I didn't know at the time, it healed and she was not blind). She was the smallest but the most curious. Two others did not make it. I bottle fed her and she would look all around while drinking.

Every once in a while an extraordinary individual comes into your life if you are so blessed. All animals are special but Molly was unique. She had an incredible intuitive bond with me. It's amazing how she "knew things". She was highly intelligent, loving, and very strong willed. I'd love it when she would "kitten out" and knead and kiss me, purring away-and she would love to do noses.

She was small with dainty little paws, and the most silky black fur ever. Her toughness made up for her smallness and would not take nonsense from her brothers and sisters. She also had a special bond with Jenny who would groom her. She would take everything in. When she was diagnosed with lymphoma in 2004, the prognosis was grim. She sailed through treatment without side effects and went into remission. She then relapsed 2 years later and again, sailed through remission. She would just look around in the car and want to sit on the seat and not in the carrier. She would bring me toys constantly, with that little mow and then drop them at my feet. She would also want to play fetch (yes, she is a cat) when she was a kitten, bringing me fuzzy balls etc. At first this third bout (in August) was going fine. A small body - even the most strongest like Molly can only take so much and cancer is a nasty disease and this time her little body could not take it. She fought hard and maintained that dignity and strong will to the end.

She transitioned peacefully with love all around her on March 30, 2009. In her weakened state, she managed to purr as I looked into those expressive eyes as if to say, it's ok mom. I have been privileged and blessed to have her in my life. She is my feline soulmate and we will be connected forever, but the pain and grief that is consuming me is indescribable as I have to adjust to my life here on Earth without her (in body). Roger, Jenny, Sandy, Simba and even Rosie the bunny will miss her too. Everybody who has met her sensed what an incredible individual she was. We will be connected forever. I miss her terribly and hope that we will be together again one day.

Thank you for sharing your tribute with us. I am sorry for your lost and pray that the peace that passeth all understanding abide with you. May you find joy in those around you.

Life's Journey

Anytime she felt she needed to make a point about our behavior, attitude or expectations, or just to get us to change course, my Grandmother always had a saying for us. The one that applies in this instance is this. She would say “the only thing in life that is guaranteed is death.” Grandpa would then say, “Well, dying is a part of life.” A time goes by I understand those sayings more and more, you know put them into perspective. Yes, dying is a part of life; the end of life. A wonderful person left us this week end and I cried.

Today I was told that a dear person I’ve worked along side for several years passed away overnight. Ironically, at the time I got the news, I was getting off my seat to walk over to her office to say good morning as I did so often. Sometimes she would beat me to the punch and come to see me. The words and emotion behind those words knocked my knees from under me and I fell back in my chair. What! I exclaimed, in confusion. As I thought I heard what I had heard, I moved towards the bearer of the news and she was in tears. What! I exclaimed again as tears rolled down my cheeks. I tried to reach out to her but couldn’t even grip her arm. I was in shock. I was numb, confused and befuddled.

The church hymn asks, ‘death where is thy sting,’ usually sung in the Easter celebration for the risen omnipotent one has stung deeply. For us mortals, it is severe and final. When death occurs, the survivors have to go on living, despite the pain and despair of loosing a loved one, or hear of someone else’s loss. We not only have to contend with our feelings, we usually have to assure others that we are ok and in the end, the departed is better off. After all, sometimes life feels like hell on earth. We also must accept condolences and console others to help each other cope – live through the pain. It takes strength and the resolve to accept that our only option is to move forward.

I don’t know if losing someone suddenly is more painful than if death comes after the progression of an illness or a long, long life into the final stages. Age is not a factor, socio economic status, or even a continent. One thing for certain, death will reach you in some way shape or form at one time or another. In any case it hurts. It hurts even to say “sorry for your loss,” to a stranger. This is not a situation where lip service can suffice; the feeling runs deep into the soul. Commiserating with others is solace but not immunity. The mystery and mortality, the reality that there is one less person in your circle can be so devastating; debilitating and immobilizing. The pain, grief and anguish are huge.

Loss– there is no going back; no do over. No more opportunity to say I’m sorry. No let’s try again. No don’t worry it will be alright. No, none of that once death comes. It’s all over. Done! The End! Kaput! C’est Finis! No more ability or opportunity to correct or make amends, thank or praise. This finality is the most intense pain and sadly that is death.

I couldn’t understand or believe what I was hearing. I walked into the other office to see the others, to check the news. Every one there was in disarray with looks of disbelief and wonder from the news. From the expressions and the somber look on everyone’s face I knew it was true. I leaned against the file cabinet as I felt I needed to anchor myself to keep from falling. That would not even be a joke from the wryest person around because we all loved, respected and appreciated her. As I stood there with my colleagues struggling to hold back the tears, all I could see or hear was my last conversation with her; “I’ll be alright, I’ll rest up this weekend. I’ll be fine!” She would be ok, she told me so. I believed her. Why not, she’s said that to me before and she was back. Did she know that would be our last conversation, even subconsciously? How, why, what, oh my God, how? No, no not her. She was……she was going to be ok. What did I miss? Could I have done something to change this outcome? What am I going to do now?!

I had to come to grips with the reality that she is gone and the rest of us will have to live on. We will have to remember, relish the ideas, thoughts and exchanges we’ve had, we’ve shared and lived, lived with and laughed about. We will have to find a way to pick up the slack, fill the void and absorb the loss in more ways than one. Her memory, thoughts and the love that she brought and shared must take us forward. The strength and courage that she displayed and the joy and beauty she brought to us will live on in our minds. I shall miss you and I shall live as you did and would; Happy, practical and honest. Take life as it comes and roll with it.

I will turn to the words of wisdom for strength and motivation, the examples of others moving forward and her memory of positive acquiescence. One thing I know is this; life guarantees death and we will survive, endure and eventually succumb. Hopefully the legacy will be such that the living will appreciates the value of life and live each day in love, joy, peace and beauty of service, respect and appreciation for music. She was a prolific dancer.

Every beginning has an end, this we know. When, how, why the end is reached is a mystery, a painful event. We will endure.

Thank you for sharing and giving to me. I am fortunate to have known you. I cried today because I miss you. Rest eternally in peace!

For all who read or browse this piece, I pray that you find something useful to help you in your journey. I hope you will share your vision, experiences or thoughts on this with us.