A New School Year

Well, we are a week into the new school year and I wanted to take some time to wrap up Summer 2009.  It was good and it was bad.  It was long and it was short.  Just like life, it had a little of everything.    I write this in honor of Cora Barbara Henson, 1909-2009, with love.

We started the summer off quickly with a trip with our church to a little place called Hamilton, Alabama.  We went for the 3rd annual “Kids Ramp” that Karen Wheaton ministries hosts.  It’s three days of worship, teaching and fun!  What we learned was “Rua” which means “Victory in Jesus!”  We have committed to claiming that over and in our lives.

We returned home ready to put our White Water passes to good use.  And that worked out pretty good for a few weeks.  A normal trip to White Water included me, Zach, Austin, Sammy & Jacob (two of my adopted sons~) We had a great time.

As July approached, my grandmother moved in with my Mom and Dad to have support taking care of my great-grandmother, who had just turned 100 on March 31st.  Within a week, Coco (my great-grandmother) had been put into a hospice.  On July 3rd, hospice called to say they believed she might be nearing the end.  Mom, Dad, my grandmother and me went up to the nursing home and spent the last few hours of Coco’s life, talking with her, with each other, laughing and crying.  She passed away about 1:30 in the morning on July 4th.  It was a blessing in so many ways, since she had suffered with alzheimers disease for many years.  I will always remember her greeting us in the wee hours of the morning, when we would travel to Asheville to spend the weekend, her love of animals, both domestic and wild, injured or whole.  She was a wonderful cook and was known for her famous chocolate pie.  She loved her family dearly and even in the darkest parts of her illness, would look at you and say, “I don’t know who you are, but I know you are my family, and I love you!”  And you had no doubt she meant every word.  15 years before she passed away, a little boy named Austin Thomas Johnson (now Chester) was born and we became a family with 5 generations.  Three and half years later, Zachary Alexandre Chester came along and gave her two great-grandsons.  We traveled to Asheville for her funeral service and her two great-grandsons, Austin and Zach, were pallbearers at her funeral.  It was a quiet, simple service that honored a simple, complex, lovely woman.

The last part of our summer was heartbreaking.  Two weeks before school started, I attended my transportation meeting for work.  After spending the better part of the day on this, I raced home to pick Austin up and take him to the high school for his football pictures.

Todd came shortly after me to pick up Zach to bring him up for his football pictures.  Arriving home, we ate some dinner, took care of the dogs and fell into bed.  Sometime in the wee hours of the night, I woke and realized that I had seen Shadow and Callie, but not Braveheart.  I shook Todd awake and asked had he seen him.  “No.” came the groggy reply.  I headed outside to call him.  No luck.  He loves the outdoors, but loves his family even more.  As soon as I called and got no response I became concerned.  I walked into the yard and continued calling for a few minutes.  Relunctanly, I went into the house and got back into the bed, praying.  Wednesday came and went.  Still no Braveheart.  When Todd got home from work, I asked him to go out and look for him.  I told him to check in the woods, because if something had happened, I was sure he would be in the woods that surround our house.  It didn’t take long for Todd to say, “Honey.”  Pause that seemed like forever.  “He’s over here.”  Isn’t it funny how just one word can say so much.  For me that word was honey.  I knew then how much worse this was going to be than I ever realized.  I thought the biggest issue would be telling the kids, especially Zach.  It turned out that I was going to be the bigger issue.  I sat down on the driveway and started to cry.  I don’t think I stopped for many hours. The kids had people at church praying for me becaue I was such a mess.  Zach and Austin actually handled it very well.  We left for church and my sweet husband found a place for him in our front yard, and set to digging the grave.  He won’t mind me telling you that he balled like a baby the whole time he dug that grave.  He also found four flowers (one for each of us) to put on it when he was done.  Let me just say that I have lost several animals over the years.  Ashes was the first cat that was only mine and she lived to be 21 years old before being hit by a car.  Now I was sad when she died, but she had lived a good long life.  Trixie was a cat Todd found abandoned and brought home when Austin was a preschooler.  Great cat, loved Austin.  Hit by a car.  I was very sad, especially because of what Austin had to go through.  But I have never experienced anything like this.  I cried for days on end.  I swore we could never more, because he was buried at this home.  I coudn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat.  One night I ended up on the internet at midnight, googling how to deal with the loss of your pet.  I am a huge animal lover, but I thought people who did these things were insane.  I had to meet with my boss a week after Braveheart was killed and I was telling her what was going on and how hard it had been.  She had had a cat creamated and it sat on her mantel at home.  Todd overheard me telling someone about this and very quickly said, “I’m not digging him up.”  I was just comforted by the idea of someone else reeling from losing a pet as much as I was, because I figured maybe I wasn’t crazy after all.

I know this part is supper long, but stay with me here.  To fully understand, you must know a little about Braveheart’s personality and also about how he came to be ours.  A little over nine years earlier, Mom and Dad found a mother cat and her two kittens, a girl and a boy in their yard.  We quickly realized that the two kittens were most likely ferrel kittens (born in the wild for the non-cat peoples).  They were terrified of humans and would hide anytime someone came around.  After weeks, Mom eventually coaxed first the Momma, then the female and slowly but surely, the male,  into coming onto her porch for food.  She had even managed to be on the porch with them when they were eating.  When Braveheart (named so because he was so NOT brave) was a few months old, Trixie, Austin’s cat, was hit by a car and died.  He was heartbroken, so Todd and I naturally wanted to help in anyway we could.  Braveheart looked so much like Trixie that we knew right away a good addition to our family when we were ready.  We brought Braveheart home and he was anything but.  He hid from all of us, under furniture, in closets, etc. etc.  This went on for a few weeks, until one night we came home and found both of our cats pacing and meowing.  I knew something was not right.  We started walking around the yard calling for Braveheart.  Well, low and behold, he had gotten himself stuck up a tree about 30 feet and could not figure out how to get down.  Here comes another example of how wonderful and kind my hubby is.  He gets a treestand out of the house and climbs up into this tree, 10:00, 11:00 at night, pitch black outside.  He gets to him, puts him down inside of his jacket, zips it up, and brings him down.  Braveheart never even clawed Todd.  That cat was never the same.  He became the best, most loving and friendly cat I have even seen.  He would greet you at your car door and meow at you all the way into the house like he was a dog.  He would sit next to Todd when he shot his bow and arrow.  When Todd would walk down to retrieve his arrow out of the target, Braveheard would walk with him.  Todd would wakl by to shoot again, with Braveheart by his side all the way.   He was a big time Daddy’s boy.  When Mikko came along 7 years ago, and became a Daddy’s boy, Braveheart snubbed his nose at being “replaced” and became a Momma’s boy. And really was until the day he died.  He loved everyone and showed it often by head butting you, meowing his affection.  But at the end of the day, he would make what Todd would call “token” visits to everyone else and then curl up in my lap or beside me on the bed.  I think that is what made this loss so devastating.  He was so devoted to us, me in particular and the most amazing cat I’ve ever loved.

God made humans with an unbelievable capacity love, and with it comes unimaginable pain when you experience a loss.  He also made us with an unbelievable ability to heal from the pain.  Slowly, day by day, sometimes moment by moment.  I visited his grave everyday for a week.  Then a few times the next week.  And so on.  Now maybe only once a week.  I sometimes walk into a dark room and see one of our other cats and my first instinct is that it’s Braveheart.  But then I remember, I smile, shake me head and give love to the cat that we are stilled blessed to have.  Braveheart, we will miss and love you, always~