You aren’t seeing things. There are, as Paul Simon sang, angels in the architecture, especially right now. Gigantic garish gold Styrofoam angels at Macy’s. Skies of heavenly hosts, over mangers and strangers, under trees and eaves. Angels festooning the firmament of your own soul. Every December, without fail, they sing a little louder than usual.
Today we remember. We remember battles and sacrifices, blooming in fields of freedom. We remember the quiet heroics of another species of warrior.
May it never be forgotten. And “auld lang syne” and all that good stuff. While we’re at it, let’s take a cup of kindness, too.
I will confess I have dragged my heels on posting this blog entry. Two weeks after we said goodbye, I still almost can’t believe that our Tony, our tower of love and gentleness, is gone. I am taking comfort that weeping lasts for a night, but joy comes in the morning. And, someday, we will see […]
Sometimes it just doesn’t seem fair. Even when we get “bonus” time, unexpected “extra” time, with a very sick cat like Esme, goodbye still doesn’t seem right or okay when it comes.
Some cats won’t give a scary diagnosis the time of day. Tabby’s Place is blessed with a wealth of these death-defiers, and perhaps none is more charming, more adorable, or more downright peculiar than our tiny Esme.
Raise your paw if you love change. No? How about upheaval? Chaos? Hmm. No dice, eh?