This morning I was playing with MasterB and thinking I should call Aunt. These are the hiccough moments. Since she has been too weak to attend her church I have often called her on a Sunday morning. Later in the day I am competing with visitors and the daily ‘phone call with Uncle Bill.
So, a bit of adjustment. MasterB of course doesn’t know she is dead, but he did know Aunt who loved him. He was very relaxed and trusting with her. They met shortly after I got him, and each time he saw her after that he wound himself about her, rubbing his face against her, and making himself at home in her home.
At home
I started to make the Ginger Ninja calendars for Aunt. The first year there may have been just the one. Maybe a second for my Aunt Nessa. I don’t remember now. Six months of Cat, six months of MasterB. Cat and Aunt had a special relationship. I’d say he exploited her good nature. Certainly he recognised her as someone who would give him attention and listen to him.
Mary, he seemed to say, if only you knew what I have to put up with, I know you would understand. And she would fuss him and he would purr, and close his eyes. He lead her merry dances around the grounds of the retirement housing where Mother had her bungalow. He was always braver there if one of us were with him. And Aunt indulged him at the expense of her nerves.
The Gorgeous Boy
She loved Cat so much I was not sure she would accept MasterB, but it was love at first sight. And when she heard his story, she was very protective of him.
Relaxed
So he’s a link. I look at him, and think how she would see him with pleasure. How the photographs and the calendar somehow made him her cat as well as mine.
You all love me don’t you?
Still, I wish I could have called her today. Months ago she told me everything for her funeral was arranged, but the folder I was handed on Thursday shows that not to be quite the case. I should like clarification re the Substantial Refreshments she has said should be provided, whether or not that should include alcohol, and whether she would like the collection to go to Marie Curie, the St Nicholas Hospice, or anywhere else.
So if there are windows in heaven, and you have finished with the paperwork signing in, could you leave me a sign please Auntie Mary?
Isobel (and Cat)'s Blog 
I think that sign in the window would just read ‘I totally trust your judgement, Isobel’. It’s the hiccup moments that leave you feeling jolted. Take care. Glad you have MasterB
But I was rather hoping not to have to trust my judgement and instead to find instructions detailing exactly what she wanted…
Yes, I’d be feeling the same. Good luck with it all and I’m sure you will get it right
Oh Isobel… hugs. Aunt is so sweet there. It is nice to see Cat on das Boot. I have never seen that picture. I wanted a sign from my Mom but I never got it. But it could have been that my whole life from the age of 35 when Mom died that was one big sign and she has been watching over me. Thank you for sharing this post and pictures.
Thanks. I enjoyed seeing that picture again too. He used to put his paw out to her and look soulfully into her eyes as though she was the only one who understood him. He was a monkey!
so touching. i know those moments – after my Dad passed away, i recognized what i thought to be his car, but of course it was a stranger behind the wheel of a car that had the same colour. and then one day after i returned to work, i thought i saw him sitting beside the roadway, but as i got closer it was just the angle of the barricade at the road edge i saw. i still drive past it every day, and sometimes i remember how it had startled me those 16+ years ago, and then i think – how could i have ever imagined that was him?
good old Cat. and your dearly beloved Aunt. they are now part of the treasure chest of memories for you. how nice it is that you have MasterB. animals do help us when we are grieving, don’t they? they are such incredible gifts to us.
i am sure that however you arrange the refreshments, your Aunt would be proud. may everything fall into place smoothly and easily for you.
And those ‘I must ask Dad’ moments, only to realise you can’t. They, more than the funeral, mark the slow realisation and understanding that someone has died.
Go with your gut instinct (no pun) on the refreshments and the donation. Aunt trusted you xxx
Trouble is, I don’t really ahve a gut instinct about this! However, having now spoken to the minister, the undertaker and the solicitor, I feel I am starting to get a grip on what needs to be done, and for which bits I am responsible.