For Lada:
Firstly *hug* I woke sometime near 7:15 with dreams of past fuzzies, perhaps saying another had come to join them in their naps, & wondering if the time had come
In the Haida-Tlingit tradition, many of my friends carry a story, a song, a ceremony that is performed for those who have passed on once yearly, or sometimes, due to distance, circumstances, what have yous, the gatherings are several years until those who have gone are honored. A friend from Kotzebue had to wait 4 years to honor her brother once, as the latchkey was delayed until everyone could be there to listen and sing and drum them to life again and say their farewells
This is for your loved one...maybe it will bring you some comfort, as it did me when my lovely Taz was relieved of her physical pain and became young and free again elsewhere, and left me with a house of fur and memories, many wonderful (and not so wonderful) memories
The house will be quieter tomorrow.
The sunbeams that rise in the east on the blankets will be empty tomorrow
The wet nose and light paws that walked over you will be absent
The toilet cover will no longer need to be set down and a towel on it for a true throne each morning
There will be no more holes in the treat bag you forgot on your desk last nite
The bag of muffins will not have the cellophane shredded and bites taken out of the tops of the muffins
The corner of your desk will not be occupied and things pushed on the floor by a restless tail
There will not be the tickle of whiskers against your toes if you drop something, or a furry head pushing them out of the way for a choice morsel you have abandoned
The clink of dishes will no longer be a triad of food offerings and a demandant MOOOWW noise from the floor
There will be no mid-morning snack and a leisurely stretch in the kitchen
The catnip patch outside will have one less mouth trimming it
The afternoon sunbeams on the deck will warm the boards but there will be someone missing
The sniffs near the rose bushes will go unchecked and unknown
The sun that warms the main room will be lacking someone in the afternoon
The mockingbird that comes to sit on the railing will be fish-noised by one less mouth
There will be no more rolling in the dust pile where the kayaks sat to the west
When the car comes in the afternoons, there will not be a third pair of eyes rushing to the front door to see Dad welcomed home
The last of the afternoon sun will fade over the trees without knowing what is wrong
The desks will not have to be cleared of hopeful faces and twitching whiskers
The meep and whine of a beggar will be silent at the meals now
The last of the lights will go off in the house and there will not be a purring puddle on the bed with glowing green eyes
There will no longer be a wet tongue of welcome, or goodnight, on the hand or fingers or nose tomorrow
But there will be silence, and memories, and there will be a sunbeam in the east tomorrow without me, but in your mind’s eye, I shall be there, on the covers
For as long as you need me to be
Without pain, playful, purring, leaping, creeping, eyes bright and tail in your way, walking on you, sleeping with you, licking your nose to wake you
Tomorrow, I will not be there to make a dent in the blankets as the sunbeams come in the east
Tomorrow, there will be one less furry flank rubbing against your leg, claiming you as their property
But I am there, always, unseen, beside you
Waiting for that next crumb to fall
To be with you, once again, someday, as the sunbeams rise in the east
We will all be with you again, one day
Save a sunbeam for us all
*hugs Lada*
-Pei
