Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Soul Coaching Day 11: Exploring Your Relationships

Well, today's exploration didn't go where I expected it to, which perhaps is the case with any true exploration. Usually when I start thinking about healing a relationship, automatically my thoughts turn to my dad. It's become a habit and I suspect one that I should release.

I started today's Water Week journey with cleaning and thought, I'll handwash another sweater. I went to the bedroom and pulled out the rather sizeable pile and my eye kept being drawn to this one sweater I'd tucked away at the back of the shelf. I didn't want to look at it. I looked at it.

I said to the powers-that-be, "Hey, I want to wash something that I'm actually going to wear."

I kept glancing at the sweater.

I thought, damn it, I should just get rid of that thing.

I told the powers-that-be, "Look, I don't want to deal with that now. That is not on the agenda."

And so, of course, I knew it was. I pulled that soft green sweater out of the back of the closet and took it to the sink for a wash.

This is the sweater I wore when our dear cat Bascha died. This is the sweater I held her tiny little body in while her spirit said goodbye. This sweater brought me comfort. I hope it brought her comfort too.

Bascha was more than a cat to me. She was a spirit guide. She was a tiny, scruffy, almost feral stray when I brought her home. She'd nip at you. She hated to be picked up. She was beautiful, and I loved her. Her grey fur had a glimmer of silver, and I called her my moon cat.

Over years of cuddles, she became a love muffin. She adored (fawned over, actually) my husband the minute he first walked in the door, so I knew he was for me. But what amazes me most is that this bitchy, high-strung stray became a cat that would lie in your arms and relax every single muscle in her body. I've never, ever seen such complete and utter relaxation. I think about it all the time, what she was trying to teach me about trust and letting go, and I can still feel her little self in my arms, purring, fully without tension and gazing at me with love.

We went through a lot with Bascha. I learned to give her injections and take blood from her ears. We endured her last year where she rejected the litterbox. We experience the fear of seeing her lying still on the ground and wondering if we would find her stiff or breathing.

And here's what I know about relationships with all my heart: love is worth the tears. Love takes courage and risk and patience and care and hurt and loss. And it is worth it.

Love is worth it.

PS I'm keeping the sweater

This month I'm exploring Denise Linn's Soul Coaching with an inspirational group of bloggers at The Next Chapter: Soul Coaching.


chest of drawers said...

Yes, it truly is.

rilla said...

Beautiful post, Jamie. You made me tear up.

Sacred Suzie said...

I'm so sorry for all the pain that was but I'm also so happy for all the happiness and love that little toughy brought to your life.

I miss her too Jamie. I'm glad you're keeping the sweater.

Anonymous said...

Oh, so beautiful! I want to go hug something!! I agree with you 100%, love it worth all of it.

Judi said...

Sometimes, love is so hard. I'm glad that you are honoring your Bascha by keeping the sweater - sure, the first couple of times that you put it on will hurt - but then the happy memories of Bascha will come.

Fatma said...

Love is so worth the courage and risk and patience and care and hurt and loss.May you be showered with LOVE!

Kate I said...

Thank you for sharing this beautiful story of love Jamie. I have my mother's (who has passed) dressing gown hanging in my closet and when I need to feel close to her, I put it on and wrap myself in it.

Kavindra said...

What a beautiful post.

We lost a dear cat about 5 months ago and are starting to talk about a dog - and I am afraid, because we went through the same thing with our boy dying of cancer, giving him meds, losing appetite, etc ... and your post made me cry and realize it certainly is worth it, no matter how hard and sad the end.

Thank you for reminding me.

Serena said...

I had to take my glasses off to wipe away the tears...a beautifully touching post about your beloved Bascha.

Love IS worth it!

love, light and peace,

Farah said...

what a lovely post, Jamie. I could really imagine Bascha. And your conclusion is so poignant, and right on.

Tori said...

This is a touching post. It reminds me of the one cat we had to bury. Over the years we have had many cats, some we had to give away, others who ran away, or one who even died at the vet's office. Those were hard to deal with, but our black cat named Sunshine really took the cake.

He got sick on Memorial Day weekend. No vet was open. He died before we could take him to one. I was devastated. When we buried him I couldn't stay and watch. It was too hard.

Thank you for writing this and making me think about Sunny. He was a great cat. Love is so worth it. I hope you can remember all the happy memories of Bascha. That is why you were called to take out that sweater.

Genie Sea said...

What a tender homage to a beautiful loving friend who is now completely relaxed in another sphere of influence! Thank you for this. It brought more tear, but tears are water, and they are good! :)

Danette said...


I'm crying too.

Love IS worth it.

Thank you Jamie.

Leila Anasazi said...

Right now I can truly use the reminder that love is worth it.

Thank you.

Leah said...

ah, what a beautiful post, jamie. thanks so much for sharing.

miss*R said...

just beautiful. a beautiful post from a beautiful soul. xoox

I still have a jumper(sweater) that was my dads... every now and then I take it out and smell deeply. there is absolutely nothing wrong with doing something like that.

Romana Mirza said...

Thank you for sharing this beauty with us Jamie. I consider reading and experiencing this with you one of my major steps toward understanding, knowing and having love. Thank you.

Jenn said...

What a powerful post, Jamie. Very touching.

Turtleheart said...

Beautiful, touching post. I've learned so much about relationships from my kitties, too. And I had a kitty with an attitude like yours who died in my arms this past summer, on my 40th birthday.

I'm glad you kept the sweater.