RIP - Our Mr Poole

Gone today - gone too soon - only 6 years

His story

In Memoriam - To be Brave in Grief

10 years.
Already.
10 years ago on this date I learned of my brother's passing.

Source: Dave's Garden, Poems for an Autumn Day by Kathleen M. Tenpas.

In Memoriam

Today is my mother's birthday - she was born in 1921 in Poland. She passed away in 2004. I so love this photograph - maybe for what it doesn't tell me: where was this taken? How old was she? Was it taken before or after the war broke out? I suspect before. What was in her thoughts at this particular moment in time?

I have been reading a lot about the war lately - too much perhaps. I feel guilt for not having listened very much to my father's stories - and now he too is gone. But Mum never spoke that much about it all - and I can only wonder now what horrors she must have lived through, as I read first-hand accounts and memoirs - all on the internet now - all there as evidence - as memory - as memorial. And as an archivist by profession, I fully know how incredibly important it is for all these people to have recorded and shared their stories, however difficult it must have been.

I look at my face in the mirror and wonder how I would have fared in such circumstances: the fear, above all, must have been overwhelming. But, as they say, one never knows the incredible resilience of the human spirit. Thousands of courageous, and even kind acts were performed in those dark days - days full of seemingly endless misery and suffering. In face of such unimaginable evil - people carried on - and fought - and lost their lives. But many, by some miracle, survived to tell their stories.

And I, sitting at the dinner table on any given Sunday, hearing, but not listening, to Dad go on and on - I never let it in - until now. I would hope that somehow my father understands and forgives me.

Merry Christmas!

I love this photo - it is me and Sammy, who passed away several years ago. I look happy - a time before life/death and other issues came along. A Happy Holiday to all, and may we always try to remember to count our current blessings, big and small.It is so important, and yet so easy to forget.

Goodbye Sweet Tim

Rescued December 26, 2001 - Released September 28, 2009



Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

"Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.

I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.

I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room,
I am the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I did not die."

By Mary Frye of Baltimore, Maryland in 1932

In Memoriam - Alex

Today I forgo cat blogging Friday to honour my brother -who would have been 58 today - there are no words, but this song, Who Knows Where the Time Goes...

Across the evening sky, all the birds are leaving
But how can they know it's time for them to go?
Before the winter fire, I will still be dreaming
I have no thought of time
For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?
Sad, deserted shore, your fickle friends are leaving
Ah, but then you know it's time for them to go
But I will still be here, I have no thought of leaving
I do not count the time
For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?
And I am not alone while my love is near me
I know it will be so until it's time to go
So come the storms of winter and then the birds in spring again
I have no fear of time
For who knows how my love grows?
And who knows where the time goes?

In Memoriam - Billy

Dear Billy - I hope your life went well for you after we were forced to leave you behind in England when we moved to Canada over 40 years ago. Back then, a 6 month quarantine would have been required, and we just couldn't do that to you. I hope you had a happy, long and healthy life. You were named after Billy Bingham, star football (soccer) player for Luton Town, where we lived. I was told long afterward, that folks would stop and marvel at your majestic countenance as you sat in the front yard. I was very young back then, and I probably didn't pay you much attention, but, somehow, you must have made an impression on me, and set glowing that tiny spark which grew to a life-long passion for cats. I hope you have already met some of my dear ones already departed at the Rainbow Bridge: Misty and her kittens PaBoo, Bijou (these 2 I am not sure if they died or not -they just disappeared) Popeye and Sammy; Smudge, Sheena, Buster, Mitzi, PeeBee, Pumpkin and of course Mishka - the two of you would make a regal couple!

Mum and Billy c.1960-65

This post is dedicated to my mother who passed away in 2004 - it was her birthday yesterday, March 5.

As always, there's more to see at The Friday Ark and then Carnival of the Cats on Sunday.

Lovely Girl - Mishka's Lilies

Well, almost a year will have passed since my "Lovely Girl" passed over to the Rainbow Bridge. Here she is at her favourite spot in the sun - where I would often find her in the late afternoon - in the later years warming her old bones, eyes shut tight and deep in meditation. She was around 20 or 21 years old. Also, a picture of her at the picnic table - at this time she was at her prime I think.

Mishka was a feisty girl, and I would often recall a passage from a book I once read describing tortoiseshell cats as: "gretchen-like and only feign to be domesticated."

Mishka came as a very young cat from the alley-ways of Montreal when we would stay at a friend's house during the Jazz Festival. We fell in love with her and brought her home with us - a short 2 hour ride away. She ruled the house, and never forgave me for bringing in all the rest of the rabble - and she always taught the new-comers to walk backwards when coming upon her - I kid you not! They actually would walk backwards! I don't want to dwell on her short but tragic illness that finally took her - and I can say it was agonizing to let her go, but she was suffering so much. She was buried in a tranquil and isolated patch of garden which we dubbed the "Montreal Garden" because it is so small. My garden in total is huge, and the typical Montreal garden in the city centre is tiny - it is what she grew up with, so it was a propos. Before winter set in, I planted some lilies called "Lovely Girl" at her grave. They are in bloom right now, and here is a picture of one - I wanted to take a shot of more just now, as many blooms are open, but it's pouring buckets as it has been all summer. Rest in peace my Lovely Girl, Mishka.

Don't forget to visit The Friday Ark and then Carnival of the Cats on Sunday.