saying goodbye

A Bittersweet Christmas Present

/ Katie / 22 Comments

After over a year, we’ve finally sold our beloved Tail Feathers.

It’s a relief, and honestly, feels like a gift after the financial panic we’ve been feeling. We didn’t anticipate it taking so long to sell, but things in Northern Virginia being as uncertain and unstable and scary as they are…well, that’s all I should probably say without getting overtly political.

ANYWAY.

It’s been really tough on both our wallets and our hearts to carry it for so long, is what I’m getting at. And now, it’s done. And boy are we feeling lots of feelings.

It’s bittersweet, saying a final goodbye. It was the first house we ever lived in together that truly felt like a home, and the first we made our own. We’re heartbroken, and we’re relieved, and we’re happy to see it no longer sitting empty and waiting. We left it better than we found it, even if we left it sooner than we thought we would. I hope the new owners enjoy it, and take care of it, and fill it with joy and good memories. I hope they love it just like we did, and more.

With all the stress of the sale – and some health news in the family that is not mine to share – it’s not been quite the holiday season I wanted. But I’m still grateful that we are where we are, able to get back on even footing money-wise, here and happy and loved, and constantly chasing after our beautiful, brave Lucy, who is fascinated by all things Christmas. Sometimes you just have to choose to be happy, and this year, in spite of everything (again, not trying to get overtly political), I am choosing to be happy.

And I hope you are, too. I hope you have a wonderful and happy whatever you celebrate, and that your season has been full of peace and light and good things. As we come into Christmas week, I wish all of us warmth and calm, and love. So much love.

Merry Christmas, and here’s a big hug from me to you. I needed one, and now you have one, too.

Life Is Tragic and Beautiful

/ Katie / 7 Comments

And we get to feel it all.

We just had a lovely visit with my parents. We spent time together outside and made good dinners and took Lucy to the beach.

Which she loves. And we love watching her have so much fun and explore the water and the sand.

And, we learned that a couple of our friends here, who found out they were pregnant right around the time we moved, had a healthy baby girl on July 10th. We’re so happy for them and so excited, too.

At the same time, just before my parents left, we got the news that one of their best friends, who has been fighting appendix cancer for a decade, passed away on Monday night. She fought so hard, and she lived to see her grandchildren grow. She leaves behind a legacy of love and kindness and fun and joy that we’ll carry with us forever.

We had a get together over the weekend, just a day before we heard about her passing, and I gave a toast. I’ll leave it here, because I think it captures something about life, and how people enter and leave, and all we can do is love each other and be together for the brief time that we’ve got. It’s never enough, that time. But it sure is wonderful.

To those just saying hello, to those who have to say goodbye, to the beautiful time in between, and to all of us here tonight in this moment together. Cheers.  

Goodbye to the World’s Greatest Gatsby-cat

/ Katie / 23 Comments

I’m meant to be posting a short story today, but 2022 – awful year that it’s been – had other plans for me, it seems. And 2022 – the worst year I think I’ve ever had – will just have to settle for eleven short stories. And this will be my last post of the year, because right now, I don’t have anything left in me. But also because Gatsby deserves this last reflection, this moment just for him.

Last night, we came home from dinner and found Gatsby on the bed. It looked like he’d fallen asleep and just not woken up. He looked peaceful and cozy. It was the best way I can I think of for him to go, comfy and safe in one of his very favorite spots, but I feel broken, and sad, and empty, and lost, because he’s gone.

I knew this day would come. Gatsby was an old man – sixteen, and a Maine Coon. I’ve been dreading it for the last couple of years, as he’d gotten sick and then better, and as we’d learned about some health issues that likely couldn’t be fixed. But you’re never ready, even when you know it’s inevitable, to say goodbye.

But today, I have to.

Gatsby was the world’s most wonderful cat. That tiny little kitten grew into a big, purring, fluffy sweetheart.

He was sweet, and loving, and floppy, and in his younger days, really playful. He loved watching birds through the window, and lately on TV, too, and he loved to snuggle up with us at night. He loved Graham, and me, and he loved us so well that his absence today feels acute and awful. But that doesn’t change that he lived a long happy life, and that he loved us, and that we loved him.

I will love him every day for the rest of my life. I never want to forget his meow, the way he purred, the softness of his fur, the glow in his golden eyes, his big rabbit back feet, and the way he’d latch on to me with one claw when he didn’t want me to leave. I never want to forget him.  

My sweetest boy: You’ll always be in my heart.

2022 really has been a terrible year for us, and to have it end this way is gut-wrenching and heartbreaking. At this point, I’m honestly afraid of what comes next. I am so tired of being sad. But I hope 2023 is better, and brighter, and full of the kind of love Gatsby showed us every day.

Gatsby

Best Cat

Spring, 2006 – December 29, 2022