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« Wheezles and sneezles | Main | For the world and for me (update) »

January 03, 2007



It is so true, Joyce. And now all those memories and all that love is piled onto little Ada who sits by me as I blog! How lucky can one woman be? (and one little cat too?)


The grief over loss of a beloved animal, it lingers on. They are so precious to us.


"It's all about grief." I embrace it with a glass of wine and the beautiful haunting voice of Patti Griffin. I sing along, "Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye old friend..." and feel released.

Ada did well at her check-up. After six years, I discovered she has Norwegian Forest in her:

When they took her to the other room to clip her nails I stood and cried a bit remembering Molly's last alive look at me as they carried her away ...

And so it goes ... little wheel spin and spin ...


Oh Tamar, thinking of you on your way to the vet. I've been thinking about the futility but seeming inevitability of such thoughts, such fears, as yours for Ada. Earlier this week, all the way to work after the 10-day Christmas and New Year closure, my mind rehearsed the possibility of returning to find the news of someone's death. Ever since my father died when I was 21, and out of the country, every time I've returned home after a trip away I've spent the return journey wondering if I'll get back to news of a death. Now, since my dear colleague's death last year, it seems that the same will happen every time I return to work after a break. I don't think there's any remedy for this. If it's the price of love, of a life fully lived in connection with others, I'm happy to pay it. Wishing us all a new year with not too much grief and the grace to accept what there is.


Dear Amba,
You have followed my psychic journey from the start, and so I am deeply moved to read your response. Thank you so much.

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