Letters to Delilah

My Dearest Baby Kitten, I'm find that writing to you can bring my whole day down. Sometimes it takes me days to recover. Out of self preservation I have held off for a while, but I don't want to you think I don't think about you all the time, so I'm going to grab some tissue, buckle-in and do this thing. It's not you're fault this is hard my kitten, it's just life. We are slowly getting used to the apartment without you. Mommy goes away for a few days this week so this will be my first time alone-alone in quite a while. That might be hard. I do occasionally see something in the corner of my eye that looks like you sleeping, or a pillow will settle or fall a bit and I will think it's you, then of course a second later I remember you are gone from the the apartment and our present lives, but never from our hearts my little girl. I am suddenly aware that the Internet -those screens we are obsessed with, is almost nothing but cats! Cat's playing th

My Dearest Baby Kitten, There will come a time when these letters are not just me trudging through my grief of losing you, but grief will be done with me when it's done. From what it feels like, that time may be a ways off. Let's reminisce a bit though to keep the mood from growing too dark. When I brought you home from Mississippi I was given a ride to the airport by the director of the movie I was working on and his girlfriend (I think), Lance and Emily. It was at least an hour's drive from Vicksburg to Jackson. While in the car, I was on the phone to Delta Airlines to find out just how I would fly with you. As it turns out they just wanted more money. In Cincinnati for my final leg home to LA they wanted a bit more for an "approved pet carrier".  I got to know them just a bit on that car ride. I hadn't had much contact with them during the shoot. They seemed pretty nice from what I remember, though my focus was almost exclusively on you and how I was g

Dearest Baby Kitten, Today (Monday, March 14th) was a very hard day. Some background: The place where I go each day to trade time for cat food has just been sold from one group of rich people to another larger group of rich people. This means the new people wanted to meet me and find out if they still want to give me cat food for my time. Today was that meeting. I was not particularly nervous, I know my value as a cat food earner. I can earn cat food in a number of places if they decided they didn't like me, but I was also pretty sure they would like me. As you know, I'm pretty damn good at belly and neck rubs. I think they would be happy with my rubbing them and their clients. We should be clear in this case "rubbing" means making crap work so they can create TV shows. You remember the big box that sometimes showed birds or other moving things that would occasionally fascinate you for about 23 seconds. What I did not expect was that you, meaning the ashes of

My Dearest Delilah, You know, I rarely called you that. I nearly certain you had been deaf for years so it didn't particularly matter to you what I called you, and, well, you're a cat, so I not sure it ever mattered. For years we've just been calling you "the kitten". for a long time when I'm certain you  could  hear me, I called you Delilah. I would sing it "dee-LIE-lah". I imagine it would spark some sort of memory if you heard it, or maybe you have perfect memory now. Okay, I think we should establish right now that I don't know with any certainty where you are now and what capacity you can think, feel, understand or remember your life. I am making vast assumptions that somehow you receive and understand what I type and publish here. I make these assumptions because it's the best way I can think of to keep you in my life and to deal with not having you around anymore. So, for the record I am assuming that you understand everything I

My Dearest Baby Kitten, Remember all those times that I would put my head gently on your side and talk to you while my tears would occasionally fall on you otherwise immaculate coat? Sorry about that. You see I was preparing myself, trying to appreciate your presence and your wonderful energy with all my might, trying to lock those moments in my memory as best I could. For I knew that one day you would have to leave us. I told myself over and over as I felt your warmth and the vibration of your purring, "You're here now, and I cherish every day I get to wake up and feed you, to see the excitement on your face when you wake up to see that I have come home." Then it happened. Not right away, but over a couple of months. You got sick, one of your eyes wouldn't open all the way, Your head tilted and your hind legs stubbled when you walked. Eventually you spent you days and nights hiding under furniture. Though we wanted to deny it, to believe you would get better,