by Carol G

Created on: December 12, 2006   Last Updated: April 30, 2007

The best times with mom happened where I moved about a two-hour drive from my hometown. Taking turns visiting back and forth, we shared my new life in the country. We took walks and napped in the neat sunroom my husband built onto his house for me. Most of mom's life was about sadness, and when she lost dad, her sadness grew immensely. Hopefully the sunlight in my sunroom helped cheer her.

Before one of her next visits, I had inherited a litter of orphaned kittens. I nursed them back to health, and naturally they grew attached to me. When I went hiking they lined up behind me and trekked through the cornfields, and in the woods behind our acreage never leaving me out of their sight.

During her next visit, mom seemed to bond with the black and white kitten whom I named Pierre, because his markings made him look like a garcon. He had a little pencil mustache, and very charming social graces. Suddenly a light bulb illuminated in my head. I felt that if mom could have a pet roaming around the house it would help alleviate some of her grieving. Mom always told me that I was like an old, wise soul dwelling in a youthful body. This is how I became her confidante beginning in early childhood. Listening to my advice, she took Pierre home with her that day.

Soon after, the competitive sister one-upped my gesture by bringing mom a pregnant cat. Quickly growing to full size, mom's house became filled with playful sounds of five cats thundering in a herd on hardwood floors. Yes, of course, this became a distraction from her grief. How could it not?

At night, all the cats piled into bed, nestling comfortably around mom's full figured form. But the comfortable part only lasted until they became old enough to be territorial. When she shared an anecdote about their new nighttime ritual it became an oasis in the desert of sadness. I laughed till I cried envisioning her less than peaceful bedtime of cats hissing and spatting all around her. Eventually they worked out the nocturnal disputes, with only an occasional lapse of the delineated territories.

Next visit, it was my turn to go to mom's house, which I hated because the competitive sister loved to wreak havoc whenever she had the opportunity. She only lived next door to mom, which was far too close for me.
Strangely enough, while I was there, I got a premonition that mom would be going to wherever dad went. She had found forgiveness for dad, and seemed to get some of her earthly relationships straightened around. She spoke happily

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