The recent departure of my dearest cat Saxon had me in knots. I consider all my feline companions special, but Saxon was such a loving, friendly cat that it made things very difficult for me. When someone expressed the thought that they had not assumed or known I was this close to Saxon, I could only bring up the example of the Harry Potter Series's "Horcruxes", indicating the cat was a part of me in an inseparable way, even though, in that body of fiction, it was created through evil and used for evil.
The level of grieving did not surprise me, as I have done this before with Squeaky, my first cat, and on that occasion, the passing was planned, though I have come to regret that quite a bit.
I have been struggling variously since he passed on. I was even going to look up and see if people's brains become wired differently when they lose loved ones. My goal has been to celebrate Saxon's life, but my heart has been heavy and I was looking for a sign or some sort of a release. Unequal to the task, last night, I went on a shopping spree, splurging money that I ought not have dared to spend...
Such things never bring you satisfaction. And, they did not.
The Miracle
Then, finally having freed up time, I went back to my gardening today after a hiatus of over 10 days. This past summer, I had struggled to save this Rose plant of mine. Roses are my Achilles' Heel as a gardener. Ironic, isn't it? A gardener that has difficulty with roses? Well, I have been working my tail off to try and save rose plants, but this particular plant just kept going downhill, and I tried pruning as a desperate measure to save the plant. That too appeared to fail, so I gave up and decided I would reuse the pot and the soil. The soil was so hard, I set the "dead" plant aside in my potting area, and never really got around to it. The plant appeared dead all this time, say, a full couple of months..
And then today, I happened to notice the plant had sprung back to life, and I was tempted to relive the famous line of Ian Malcolm, played by Jeff Goldblum, "...life finds a way".
I am no religious man, nor am I a betting man, but I truly saw this plant and saw it as a sign. A sign of renewal, of continuance, of hope and resilience.
The feeling of satisfaction finally crept in, followed by the release. Now, I can celebrate Saxon's life, and create meaning through actions in his memory.
Of course, I promptly re-potted the rose! Long live Saxon.
