Nails and life

I just need some form of distraction today. Any form will do, so it's down to my nails again. This is one of those days when I am quick to shed a tear in memory of my lovely baby, I keep reliving the last moments. Big big sigh....I just cannot understand this thing called life... and death. Why do loved ones just die on us, and will I be left just too long to see everyone go away? Shit, that's a cruel thought.

Anyway on to my new nails. Black, because I am in mourning, but with a fiery red because the spirit inside is hard to kill. It is probably what has kept my sanity/insanity, through all that life has thrown at my feet. A lot of sadness, but then a lot of happiness too. Perhaps it's the yin-yang of life trying to balance out an extremely happy childhood. If I had to choose I wonder what I'd choose, having it easy early in life makes you automatically think it's going to be one easy ride. But the equation doesn't work out that way. Would I rather have had a tough childhood and an easy adulthood? The thing is that what I would have preferred is useless because we do not get to choose. It's still hard though. So here's to my nails, while I keep thinking of my Figaro. He is now pain free and I'd rather have him on Rainbow Bridge and happy then next to my side and in pain. That's life, it's how it evens all the bumps out with a grand big steam iron.

In Loving Memory...

It has been two years since my Figaro passed over. And that does not make it any better. My first-born grandchild, the first to go, spending just two and a half years with me; way too little. And yet in just so little time, this cat made its way into my heart. such a loving cat, one would have thought he had some canine blood in there. He shared my tears, and left me to shed much more.

Each baby's life has a purpose and meaning and the love we share when they come into our hearts is sacred. A bond of love too strong to be ever broken even when the physical body is gone, the spirit remains.

Grief is not measured by time. It is when the heart dries of tears and the mind comes to acceptance that the healing starts. It is a life-long process and we, or I, allow myself to be fragile on days like this. I like to think that my Figaro has passed onto Rainbow Bridge before me. And there is some comfort in knowing that a loving God, creator of all live things, would never allow the innocence and unconditional love I shared with my Figaro to be taken cruelly away from me forever. Meanwhile I can only think of him fondly and hope that he thinks of me too. I don't care for people who will say, "but it's just a cat'. Yes just a cat, and my baby too.

http://rainbowsbridge.com/residents/FIGAR005/resident.htm