Saturday, December 20, 2008

I touched an angel, kissed an artist, and buried my child

My baby boy you were the sweetest of all my children. A loving fraternal feline to Jean Pierre and Mon Cherie, you played and ate alongside your brother and sister like normal siblings. You also dutifully served as their playtoy and mercifully withstood Mon Cherie's and Jean Pierre's domineering habitual acts. Your patience and tolerance is admired--if only humans had an ounce of your virtues.


Pepe Francois, Winter Bear, and Jean Pierre, Christmas 2006


Mon Francois, you were my white angel who never complained, never demanded. You followed me from room to room when Mama Liz (grandmother, a non-cat person) was absent, like a guardian angel protecting me. You curled up on the printer in the study, you lay at my feet in the bedroom, you stretched like an "arch angel" under the chair where I sat. I am incredibly blessed to have touched an angel, my guardian angel. You gave me so much love by allowing me to pet your head, scratch behind your adorable ears, and caress your long elegant paws and kiss those pink paw pads and matching pink nose. I touched an angel.


My Pepe Francois, you were more exquisite than any famous painting in The Louvre. Your perfect white, long-haired coat, complemented by angelic pink paws and matching pink nose, contrasted by a mesmerizing green eye and blue eye, are the inspiration and drive for artists to paint without pausing, ignoring sleep and food. Only by capturing your essense will artists rest their palette, ease their mind and cease to starve. You graced the cover of more than one Christmas card. You are the artist. A thousand kisses I bestowed on you for praise.






Santa Bear and Pepe Francois, Christmas 2003



Pepe Francois with antler years, Christmas 2007


Pepe Francois in front of fireplace, Thanksgiving 2005


My child, I held you in my arms and wept goodbye to you last night after you passed away. The hole in my heart is too much to bear. I never knew such pain existed. Your white hairs lingering in the home are bittersweet reminders. How I never want to clean this house for fear of losing you forever. Let the remnants of white fur be laden with pixie dust so that I may fly to you. Let me take care of you wherever you are. Take me with you my sweet angel. Please, take me with you for no human possesses your virtues, your spirit, your love all in one. We could all learn from you my baby boy, a young cat.



2 comments:

Kell said...

Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.

Cat Chat With Caren And Cody said...

Oh dear God Christine this tore me up 'My child, I held you in my arms and wept goodbye to you last night after you passed away. The hole in my heart is too much to bear. I never knew such pain existed. Your white hairs lingering in the home are bittersweet reminders. How I never want to clean this house for fear of losing you forever. Let the remnants of white fur be laden with pixie dust so that I may fly to you. Let me take care of you wherever you are. Take me with you my sweet angel. Please, take me with you for no human possesses your virtues, your spirit, your love all in one. We could all learn from you my baby boy, a young cat."

It so reminded me of when my bobo passed. This was simply exquisite. I know it has been a while now but I am so deeply sorry xoxoxo