Last night I came home after a games night and went to sit down on my couch and just expected to see her there. Waiting for me. Curled up and napping. Her bright green eyes would open up at the sound of my approach and a "breowwww" would escape her mouth as she stretched and got up to say hello. My friend and companion of 20 years. She was my first pet - the first one I chose for myself. I was 10 and my Dad took my sister and I to a house where someone was giving away a batch of kittens for free. I saw her there - the smallest, scrawniest little kitten of the batch and the only black one. The rest of the kittens were tabby. I was drawn to her and ran and grabbed her right away. There was no question, no considering, this was my cat. We had our ups and downs but she was always there. Now she's not and it's left a hole. A hole that is extremely hard to describe, especially to those who couldn't possibly understand. I still feel her and when I remember that the feeling is just a memory, it hurts. I miss you little one.
I spent some of this weekend thinking about the word redemption and what it means. Not necessarily the religious context of it, but the taking a wrong and making it right idea. I think this stuck with me because I watched a few movies over the weekend in which the themes were about making things right and using your pain to help others. Like everyone I have had some painful things happen to me and have struggled with the anger and despair that often accompanies being hurt. In the book The Shack the author calls his main character's pain (due to the murder of his youngest daughter) "the Great Sadness." This makes sense to me because some of the bad things that can happen in life seem so consuming that they haunt you no matter how hard you try to ignore them. I am often reminded of this fact when something new in my life causes me pain (a conflict. a death, etc). All of a sudden the floodgate of old pain re-opens and I find myself back at the beginning of my pain...
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