Late last month, CeCe, our 15-year old cat, wasn't walking on one leg. After an annual checkup and tests, multiple medicines were prescribed. She was walking again within days.
Two weeks later, CeCe had an episode. Upon return from an ER vet visit with even more medication, she promptly projected blood from both ends. Figuring this was the end although there was no true explanation for her physical state, I stayed next to her all night, praying, giving Reiki, telling her I loved her. Somehow, she made it through. It wasn't her time.
Two weeks later we were forced to visit another ER vet since one of the medications previously prescribed put CeCe into heart failure. Medications were juggled again, and that week, CeCe's regular vet refused any follow up care.
Feeling abandoned and unsupported, the search was on for anyone who could help within reason. Despite another recommendation to walk CeCe over the Rainbow bridge, which we almost followed, Cece, again, made it clear she wasn't ready.
We took faith in a fabulous new vet and singular treatment. Within days, Cece's heart failure was managed, and after a week of stabilization, recent updated care for IBD was introduced with positive results thus far.
It's been touch and go for a month now, and the emotional roller coaster is beyond real. The other day, CeCe decided to not take her medications and even though I know each day is on her terms, I was feeling distraught.
Spirit encouraged me to write CeCe a letter.
As I sat down to write, I found myself feeling all the feels of her lifetime with us - the days we'd play hide and seek, when she'd wrestle with us playfully, her insatiable appetite, and her loud complaints when we were two minutes late for mealtime.
I also discovered a deep sorrow for as life happened, I spent less time with her due to stressful jobs, keeping the house a certain way, raising children, adopting additional cats, and trying to keep everything together. My heart ached for her forgiveness.
Then I remembered all the times she ventured to places in the home she knew were off limits, eating my plants, or sitting smugly after misbehaving as if asking what I was going to do about it.
After all of that surfaced and passed, all I could feel was love. I loved this small animal so much for all we've been through and the connection we have endured.
I realized then what I needed to write:
Dear CeCe,
Thank you for everything and teaching me about you and myself.
Please forgive me for my shortcomings, and I release you of any shortcomings I judged you as having.
I love you so much and then some.
As I finished my short letter, I realized I was sharing the essence of the Ho'oponopono prayer with her, which pinpointed all I wanted...all I needed to say.
I know she knows how I feel. There is no doubt. We're closer now than we ever have been. These experiences with her have deepened not only our connection and understanding of each other, but also my connection with myself.
I've also been reminded that requesting and offering forgiveness, saying thank you, and telling people you love them is important every day. Saying those things now creates a deeper bond, if all are open to it. And when the time comes for our loved ones to move on from this earthly existence, we'll be able to flow with their process in more ease, grace, acceptance, and love.
