Friday, May 21, 2010

Cotton Ball Tears

Tonight the sight of a cotton ball made me cry. It’s been one week since my beautiful, faithful cat Bridget passed away. And she loved to chase cotton balls. So tonight when I reached for a cotton ball to remove my nail polish with, I just started to cry.

Bridget was my companion for nearly 16 years and was right there beside me for all the big moments in life. Cats are very independent and Bridget was probably more independent than most. She would always come love on me at bedtime, but sleep in the closet in her little corner; she never slept on the bed with me – unless I was sick or sad. When my dad died, she slept in the bed with me off and on for about a month. It was like she could sense the nights when I needed her to be there for me.

My friend Shannon brought me Bridget my last semester of college. I took 21 hours that semester and worked full time, so how I was able to raise a kitten I have no idea. I guess that’s why she was so independent. Bridget moved with me 11 times. She never complained, she just moved with me and adapted. She lived with dogs, she lived with teenagers and she even lived in an apartment that didn’t allow pets – all just to be with me, her momma.

She once got stuck in between the kitchen cabinet and the wall – I think I had to take part of the cabinet out to get her out! She used to love to roll around on the concrete patio, especially if it was sunny. I bought her lots of cute cat toys over the years, but she was never very impressed with them. Bridget preferred to play with Q-tips, tampons, twisty ties, milk rings, makeup sponges, rubber bands and hair bands, erasers (she would chew them to bits!) and most of all, cotton balls.

My apartment seems so empty now. It’s amazing how such a small creature had such a large presence. The hardest part is walking into my apartment from the garage. I expect to hear a kitty meow through the door and when I don't, my heart sinks. I get up and walk to another room and instinctively look for her, then I realize she's not there. I cannot believe how much I miss her. It’s left a hole in me, just like when dad died. My cotton ball tears eventually stopped tonight and turned into a smile. I know that my baby’s in a better place, surrounded by as many cotton balls as she could possibly want.

1 comment:

diherber said...

Jenn, this is beautiful. These are the memories that, eventually, will help your heart to heal. Bridget will always occupy a portion of your heart. That hole may never go away, but it will become smaller. I love you, Jennifer. Always know that, no matter what.
Dianne