Epiphany

It is late, and I had considered not writing at all tonight, but I simply must take a small amount of time right now to honor and reveal an epiphany I had today. It was an epiphany about love.

I went down to Familiar kitty's grave. I took two stones, and a little message from my herbal tea...it said something about allowing my inner light to become one with the universal light, and that felt right for my little one. Also, I have been offering a kintu each time I visit...using three bay leaves in lieu of coca. But also, today I decided to offer flowers in a new way. A friend and neighbor brought me some tulip bulbs a week or so ago, and I hadn't been sure where to plant them for spring. Now, they will come up in a semicircle around Familiar kitty's grave. Beautiful! My little kitty usually did have his nose in flowers whenever I had some in a vase, without fail. What a joy that will be in early spring.

And maybe my epiphany stems from that. What is now a sad place that is a memorial to my little beloved one who is no longer walking the Earth with me will become transformed into a splash of color, yellow and red, in six months' time. And hopefully those flowers will come back year after year, long after I am gone from this house perhaps. And then, people may have no idea that my little love was offered back to Mother Earth on that spot. What they will know, though, is the beauty and joy of bright flowers after a long winter.

My epiphany was this simple shift that came while I was at his grave. The words came through me, and I heard them and thought them for the first time as I spoke them. Instead of feeling the loss...this tendril of love energy that is used to connecting with that little being has no place to connect now...what a beautiful thing it would be to allow that love to live through me. No longer directed at my kitty, I can choose to redirect that love energy through me, and the power of that love will extend beyond that one profound relationship. I can allow all the love I ever had for my Familiar kitty, and all the love that I ever received from him, to flow through me, to fuel me in all the love that I still carry with me as I walk upon this Earth. It was as if I took that severed tendril of love that has been aching so deeply, and swallowed it, taking its light into my body. And with this epiphany today, I felt something profound shift within me. An openness, a space, a freedom, a deep inner radiance that feels so familiar to me.

In those moments as I offered these gifts and words to my kitty's grave, I knew that the worst of this is past. My sorrow will continue to flow for as long as it flows. I welcome it freely. As I have said before, whoever is worth loving is worth mourning. But I now feel like I can begin to move back into the flow of my life again, carrying a brighter love than before.

Tonight, too, one of my neighbors brought me a children's book to read, called something like "Desser the Best Cat Ever." A sweet and moving story of a little girl and her little kitty love, a black and white kitty much like my own. I read it when I saw it on the arm of my sofa tonight when I returned home. I cried and cried, such a beautiful book that expresses the profound love of sharing life with a beloved animal companion. Thank you Bill and Acadia for thinking of me and sharing this book. I think I might need to find my own copy in honor of "Familiar, the Best Cat Ever."

And for now, it is time to sleep. Friday, the Best Cat Ever is purring and snuggling close to me. His sweet head is resting on my wrist even now as I type, and he is truly irresistible. His head begs me to leave behind this keyboard and love him through touch. Sounds pretty good to me.