Monday, May 18, 2015

Cats leave paw prints on our hearts.

I think I'm ready to begin blogging again.

Although I have not posted anything for over a week, please know that I read each and every comment you wonderful bloggers left me after the passing of my beautiful, precious Rosie. Thank you all so much. Your words and your kindness have truly helped me through this difficult time, and it brings me a great deal of comfort and inspiration to know that my Rosie was not only dear to me, but that she also touched the hearts of so many others.

Of course, I still miss my sweet old girl more than words could ever describe, and I talk to her and tell her how much I love her every day. It helps me to have these little conversations with her, and I also wholly believe I owe her this, as Rosie is and always will be a prominent influence on who I am today. I'm going to age myself by divulging that my family acquired Rosie as an 8-week-old kitten when I was just 4 years old. I grew up with her, and then entered into adulthood with her by my side. She was my consoling cuddler after tough days at school as a child, and then later after long days at work as an adult. She was there for me through everything. Rosie largely shaped me into the animal-loving adult I am today, and she has always been and will always be my loyal companion.

So, after 21 and a half long, wonderful years together, I now miss my Rosie very, very much. But, I have come to a comforting peace of mind knowing that she is now free of all pain and discomfort and is watching over me.

On another note, one thing that has made this difficult time even more surreal for me is that I have, for some time now, been in the process of moving. I had mentioned the purchase of my first home in earlier posts, before Rosie fell ill. I believe I had mentioned that, as I was nursing Rosie, I put my move on hold. I did not want an ailing Rosie to be stressed by being moved away from her home of 21 years. That being said, when it was believed that Rosie was simply suffering from a bout of pancreatitis and we thought we could nurse her out of it, I had every intention of and was already making plans for moving her to my new house. My parents had let me take a nice, comfy chair that Rosie often rested on at their house, so that she would have something familiar at her new home on which to sleep and eat. The chair had already been placed in the corner of my bedroom directly beside my bed at my new house.

After Rosie passed, when I went into my bedroom at my new house and saw her chair, I felt at a complete loss. I was completely torn as to whether or not to keep my room set up that way. That was Rosie's chair, and my room had been set up so that she would be the only animal allowed within, since she preferred to be left alone by the dog and the other feline furbabies. On one hand, I had already ultimately decided that, with Rosie gone, I would go ahead and allow my other furbabies into my room at my new house (they had never before been allowed to sleep with me at night, because at night my bed was, more accurately, Rosie's bed). However, I had not yet decided whether I wanted the chair to stay. My primary holdup was that it had always been Rosie's chair, and I was hesitant to allow any other furbabies to use it.

Ultimately, I decided to remove the chair. I simply felt compelled to have the chair remain Rosie's and Rosie's only. It was placed back at my parents' house, in the exact same spot where Rosie used it to sleep and sunbathe. However, I certainly could not bring myself to remove all memory of Rosie from my room at the new house. Rosie had always been my roommate, so to speak, and I decided I wanted some sort of memorial in my new bedroom in honor of my sweet, loyal Rosie.

This is Rosie's memorial corner in my bedroom at my new house:
I placed this shelf in the exact same corner where Rosie's chair had been set up for her. Although, sadly, she never did get to use it, it will always be Rosie's corner.
Here is a close-up of the contents of Rosie's memorial:
A rose and artwork, in honor of my sweet Rosie.
I decided I wanted a rose (a fake one, so that it would last forever) in honor of my Rosie, and my mom gave me this beautiful red one. My mom has had this rose for years at the home of her and my dad, which is great because that house is where Rosie and I lived for nearly the entirety of our lives together. The vase the rose is in actually came from a flower arrangement Rosie's regular vet sent us the day after she passed. (Everyone at Rosie's vet had grown to adore her so much, and she was their oldest patient. The flowers they sent were absolutely gorgeous, a beautiful tribute for my beautiful Rosie.)

Next to the rose is some artwork that I handmade especially for Rosie, in honor of her and her memory. I don't remember whether or not I have mentioned it on here before, but I love creating art. As I'm sure you've all noticed, writing is one of the primary ways I express myself and cope (by the way, applause to all those who have made it this far in this post!). Another way I best express myself and cope is through art. That being said, I wanted my memorial to Rosie to include something that I created especially for her:
As it says, cats truly do leave paw prints on our hearts.
Whether or not it was something along the lines of foresight, I had actually started this art piece days before Rosie took a turn for the worse on that dreadful Thursday when we had to say our goodbyes. After Rosie passed, I felt obligated to finish this piece in her honor as soon as possible. I fine-tooth combed through countless pictures of Rosie (during which I felt both sadness at her passing but also such gratitude for all of those memories with her), in order to ensure that I got her markings as close to perfect as possible on my drawing of her. As a sort of connection between us, I chose purple and pink as the color scheme -- purple is my favorite color, and I always loved the adorable pink color of my princess Rosie's paw pads and nose. And there is also, of course, a story behind the ribbon attached at the art piece's top. In my room where I used to live at my parents' house, I had a headboard upon which I once years ago randomly placed a pile of ribbons. Rosie soon after found these ribbons and began to play with them. From that day on I kept them there, and she would occasionally wake me up at night and look up at the ribbons until I gave her one to play with. The ribbon I attached to the artwork I made for her is one of those very ribbons with which she and I played together so many times, including once not much more than two or three weeks before she passed.

Thank you all again for your kind words and thoughts for both Rosie and myself. I appreciate it so much, and I know my Rosie does too.

Cats leave paw prints on our hearts. Rosie's will remain on mine forever.

5 comments:

Annie Bear said...

What a beautiful post. I'm happy to read how you're doing. I know you miss her so very much but I applaud the things you're doing. Your memories of her are just so wonderful. What a blessing to have the first half of your life! The artwork is beautiful, truly! Thank you for sharing this and the pictures (I love the story about the ribbons).

The Island Cats said...

What a great way to remember and pay tribute to your sweet Rosie. Purrs....

Quinn and Angel brandi said...

Mommy and I both love brandi's blankie, and it is a constant reminder (as if I needed one--Mommy) of brandi. After 19 years with one cat, mommy can appreciate your loss. Your memorial is a very special good thing!

Colehaus Cats said...

Your post is both beautiful and a wonderful lasting tribute to sweet Rosie. Sending soft purrs....

meowmeowmans said...

It's so nice to see you blogging again. We love your memorial corner and artwork for sweet Rosie -- it's a beautiful and lovely tribute to your special girl. Thank you for sharing it with all of us.

Hugs, purrs, and prayers to you.