Friday, January 8, 2010

Embodiment & Our Built in Obsolescence

We got some news yesterday afternoon.

Our sweet Rosie cat, who is now in her 18th year, does not have hyperthyroidism as we had actually hoped, but rather, she is most likely suffering from a cancer*. From here on out, it will be about palliative care, making sure she is comfortable and happy.

Isn't that true, though, for all of us from the moment of our birth?

(*This is just an educated guess on the vet's part. We don't wish to have any more tests done.)

To embody this life is to accept that it comes to an end. To love and live in this skin suit as fully as possible, we must face the fact that it comes with built in obsolescence.

I could choose to dive into an Ocean of Grief. That is certainly in my nature and I have almost drowned myself there in the past.

But now I make different choices. Now, as that little signature box says at the end of each post, I am Brave; I choose Bliss.

Marcy and I took a wee bit of time to absorb the shock of the news and then we got on with it. "It" being our lives. Lives filled with love and beauty and grace and creativity and peace and, yes, cats and a rabbit.

Rosie is not on a time table. We will enjoy every moment she decides to give us, and when she decides it's time to go to her Sparkle Suit, we will miss her.

Choosing bliss, though, means not regretting a single moment with her. I would never choose to have not known her.

I would never have chosen to have not known our friend, Ken, or our other cats and animal companions who came before.

Being brave in this body and with this body and through this body, I will choose love over fear, knowing that love comes sprinkled generously with loss.


Linnea said...

This post touched me on so many levels I don't know what to say. I think it's one of the best you've ever written, and that's saying a lot, because your posts are always great.

Naboo the Cat and his humans send purrs, gentle hugs, and thoughts of comfort to RosieCat and everyone else at the Lilypad.

Emma said...

I'm glad that Rosie has been part of your life and you all have been part of hers.

Love to you all as you enjoy some more moments together!

differenceayearmakes said...

Having so recently lost my Goldie kitty I feel for y'all. Your post offers some definate truths. All we can do is appreciate and love now.

Anonymous said...

please please please stop making it so each post, eat comment, each page on this blog opens up into a new page. this is my favorite blog but this change is ruining the experience. feel free to delete this. just wanted to let u know.

Lisa said...


Sweet, deep, tight, long HUGS of love to you, Marcy, and the furry friends of the Lilypad!

You KNOW my (our) heartfelt thoughts, prayers, understanding, and sympathies are with you.

Bless you for sharing your unfolding journey of BLISS in the midst of Life with us. We send tender palliative energy Rosie's way.

Christine Claire Reed said...

Anonymous, Since I can't write to you directly and in private, which I would prefer.

Most readers, I have found, actually prefer the new window/tab. I do myself. It's simply a preference.

I would hope that the content -- especially today -- would override such a trite matter.

Bethany said...

Thanks for sharing this. Lovely.
I am trying new ways of loving and accepting illness and death with my animals, not allowing myself to get WRECKED by it, but just feeling the sadness and love. Got a 17 year old dog on the verge right now.
Love you you and M and R.

Kavindra said...

This is a lovely post. And having just lost Lucy Cat, I am especially moved by it.

I am sending much love and warmth to you all at the house, especially sweet Miss Rosie.

Jean said...

Rosie is lucky to have people who will enjoy her and comfort her until she is done here.

No regrets for love is so beautiful. I love this was of being brave and choosing bliss. It is the absolute right thing to do. I am inspired again to be braver.

My kitties are gone now, but I know they are sending Rosie snuggles and warm catnaps.

Misti said...

I'm sorry about your little kitty. My oldest cat is getting up in age and I dread the day I hear those words that you did.

Jan said...

Your love is so evident as is your passionate commitment to be well with "what is." That is bravery incarnate. Gasho, to you....Cyber hugs.

tinkerbell the bipolar faerie said...

This post will sit in my heart today - at the point of maximum intensity, the apex. The sentiment you've expressed here, and the words you used to do it -- so profound.

Death defines live. The momemt we enter this world, we begin to die.

Kitty snuggles and kisses to sweet Rosie.

Jeanne Klaver said...

I know how painful it is to face life instead of choosing an artificial escape. I'm glad you know the value of "In Spirit's own time." Bless you all as you live each precious moment, for it is all we have.

svasti said...

I'm so sorry for your news. But let's face it - 18 is dang good for a cat! She's done so well, surrounded by love from humans and other animals. And you'll honour her remaining time and passing with continuing love and care.

Miss Rosie, she's got it good. We do all pass, everyone and every living thing. The way you are choosing to accept this is brave and powerful. And worthy of a life-long companion like Miss Rosie.

Ellecubed said...

Thank you so much for sharing this lovely and beautiful post with us. It never ceases to amaze me how you can articulate such hard subjects in such a beautiful way. Reading this has provided me with new perspective on my grief and I thank you for that.

Sending warm and comforting thoughts to Rosie as well as you and Marcy.

Beth Buelow said...

As I read your post, my 15-year-old Fiona was pacing back and forth in front of me. She's about 6lbs, down from 10 in the spring, the result of gradual kidney failure. When the vet told us in September she had only a few weeks, I was heartbroken.

Then, a friend referred to this as "sacred time" and my perspective completely shifted. Without using those exact words, that's what you've described. It's a time of transition for Fiona, during which I am honored to care for and love her as much as possible. We give her fluids, to which she is responding remarkably well. It truly is a sacred time, and every moment is precious. I wish the same for you and your beloved Rosie.

sweetmango said...

oh sweet Rosie you are in such good care and surrounded, glowing with love from those around you and from those of us far away.
My love to you all. You know that I understand this at the deepest level.

Wild Roaming One (WRO) said...

*hugs* to you, Marcy and the rest of your family Christine. I know how this feels...


TheAnalyst said...

Beautiful perspective on grief! I wish kitty the best, and I know she is probably in the best place (physically, emotionally, and spiritually) she can be, with you and Marcy at the Lilypad.

epiphanygirl said...

Blessings and hugs to your family, four legged and two.