we're an endless stream of choices, we're the softest murmur of voices
Across the ISC chat this morning:
I'm morbidly amused, still, that Caledonians must risk death by rapacious trolley-car to enter a memorial park.
And there are the kittens. Hello, kittens!
And there you are, old friend.
I miss you. I am honest enough to admit you weren't the heart stike that Sumie was, just because it was so shockingly sudden, when she went. But you and I both knew you were going. And we both knew there was nothing to be done. Which resulted in a much more prolonged ache.
I was the best friend I knew how to be, both in being your friend in the first place, and during those final months. Which, being me back then, likely meant flighty and distracted and occasionally bizarre, in presentation and communication...but anyone who knows me knows that. You knew that.
You never seemed to mind.
But yes, some days, it still hurts. Your passing. Sumie's. People in my RL who've left the puzzle of flesh. Grief ebbs, and evens out, but sometimes the wave washes in and drags me under, still.
I have kittens of my own now. I don't know if you'd have been surprised by that. Likely not--half the time I was running around as a cat, or a bunny, or some composite creature with antlers and hooves.
You never minded that, either.
I'm partnered now, too. You might have liked him. He would have struck you as terribly bold and brash, but...you might have seen the heart I see, the soul beyond the skin, and understood. You understood a great deal, in your quiet, unassuming fashion.
But I will always miss you. Some days it hits harder than others. Fact of life, innit. And I'd always rather miss someone, than be blithely unaffected by the passing of a friend, so that's by design, too.
And Lady Kittenpaws is off the parcel. Because of course she is.
If you care to, you can visit the Whybrow Memorial Park in Southend. 'Ware the trolley, of course, but that's a known hazard.
[10:26] Hxxxxxxxxx Rxxxxxxx: Stop by and visit Sir Mice R Delicious, Kat Nipper, Rebel Furrball, Kitty Purness and Lady Kittenpaws at Whybrow Memorial Park in Southend. They need petting!So...I went. Knowing my mood was fragile, knowing it would probably lead to tears...I went.
[10:37] Emilly Shatner-Orr (emilly.orr): My goodness. When did the Whybrow Memorial Park get kittens? I have obviously not been there enough.
I'm morbidly amused, still, that Caledonians must risk death by rapacious trolley-car to enter a memorial park.
And there are the kittens. Hello, kittens!
And there you are, old friend.
I miss you. I am honest enough to admit you weren't the heart stike that Sumie was, just because it was so shockingly sudden, when she went. But you and I both knew you were going. And we both knew there was nothing to be done. Which resulted in a much more prolonged ache.
I was the best friend I knew how to be, both in being your friend in the first place, and during those final months. Which, being me back then, likely meant flighty and distracted and occasionally bizarre, in presentation and communication...but anyone who knows me knows that. You knew that.
You never seemed to mind.
But yes, some days, it still hurts. Your passing. Sumie's. People in my RL who've left the puzzle of flesh. Grief ebbs, and evens out, but sometimes the wave washes in and drags me under, still.
I have kittens of my own now. I don't know if you'd have been surprised by that. Likely not--half the time I was running around as a cat, or a bunny, or some composite creature with antlers and hooves.
You never minded that, either.
I'm partnered now, too. You might have liked him. He would have struck you as terribly bold and brash, but...you might have seen the heart I see, the soul beyond the skin, and understood. You understood a great deal, in your quiet, unassuming fashion.
But I will always miss you. Some days it hits harder than others. Fact of life, innit. And I'd always rather miss someone, than be blithely unaffected by the passing of a friend, so that's by design, too.
And Lady Kittenpaws is off the parcel. Because of course she is.
If you care to, you can visit the Whybrow Memorial Park in Southend. 'Ware the trolley, of course, but that's a known hazard.
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