Big Penny Positive #32
18 Dec 2018 10 Comments
in art, mixed-media art Tags: Penny Positives
I admit it. One of my favorites.
Once Again, Thankful
17 Dec 2018 7 Comments
in art journaling, blogging, cats, creativity, death, gratitude, music, video, writing Tags: electroconvulsive therapy, grief, memory loss
I love my blog. I never came here to do anything except tell my story—whatever that might mean. I never expected to find deep connections. I never expected to touch so many lives. Or to be touched by so many. The only conditions I placed on my posts were to tell the truth and to wait long enough to know what the truth might be in a given situation.
Keeping this space for almost eight years means it has also become my memory. Electroshock not only eliminated 2006 and 2007, but continues to burn holes in the process that changes short-term into long-term memory. I stopped fussing about that long ago. Being forced to live in the Now is a pretty decent way to live.
As I think about making some sort of journal/tribute for Henry, though, I mourn all the stories I’ve forgotten, all the little details, the ways he, Emmett and I became a family. So, when I sit down to write about him, I start with what I notice now. This morning I wrote about how quiet the house is without him. That thought led to another and another, stitching together fragments of memories into a surprising string of delight and appreciation.
And I come to my blog, where Henry’s stories remain clear and available. I took more pictures of the cats so I could illustrate those stories. How grateful I am to have this reliquary! Who knew how smart I was in 2011 to fiddle around with WordPress?
As Emmett and I rearrange ourselves around and within the space that was Henry, I’ll keep coming here to share our truths. Today, Emmett is soaking up the morning sun in the Alpha chair. When I came home from yoga (noticing the silence instead of Henry’s irritated greeting), and saw Emmett basking, I took pictures. This is an important moment for him, for us, for our life now.
The sun and the silence. And the Adventure Continues.
(This song by the Wailin Jennys has always felt like Henry to me—his energy, his personality—so I share him with you in a slightly different way.)
The Top Sheet Rumble
14 Dec 2018 10 Comments
in cats, mental health, relationships Tags: grief, play
I changed the sheets on my bed yesterday. A mundane chore, but surreal without Henry. He was the sheet-changing supervisor (he was the Everything Supervisor), laying on the yet-to-be stretched lumps, attacking the Bed Boogies that lurked beneath. But his specialty was doing The Top Sheet Rumble.
As soon as the top sheet fell over him, his hind feet flew up, anticipating an attack. A hand-like creature swooped in, targeting the exposed belly. Claws and teeth ripped at the invader. It retreated. Henry scrambled under the sheet, waiting. Fingers teased the hind-quarters, which were seized and shredded. Another retreat (to suck on puncture wounds), then a deep drive to the belly that left the invader wide open to attack.
The Victor emerged quickly (he seemed to know when to stop by the wailing on the other side of the sheet), licked his lips and bounded off the bed to find other prey (usually Emmett).
I never minded the puncture wounds. Hen lived by his wits in the wild until The Humane Society found him. Stuck inside, he needed the exercise and the Hunt. Poor Emmett was his usual target, but Em learned early on how to lay low and hide. Henry loved to Rumble, and I learned how to keep my battle wounds to a minimum.
Changing the sheets will always bring Henry back to me. It won’t ever be a chore.
SandySue Altered
