Valentine lived a long happy life. She died at the ripe age of 23 years several years later than what we thought. In the last years of her life, her health had deteriated greatly. She became severely arthritic and pretty much deaf. You had to really yell for her to hear you. He achy joints eventually kept her from being able to leave my parents' bedroom for food and water. We accommadated her until it was no longer right for us to let her to continue suffering. This post isn't about her death, its about her life and how much she meant to me.
She was a cat that I had known since birth. Valentine was one out of only two cats my parents had ever owned that were born in their care. She was a beautiful calico with green eyes. She wasn't the most outwardly affectionate cat, she tended to stay on the sidelines and was contented to watch you. She was not a mean cat, nor was she antisocial, Valentine seemed to know that her place was to watch over us and that was how I grew up knowing her. She was the ever watchful, the vigilant, the forever faithful. She would sit on any perch she could see the majority of our daily actions. She would sit at the window or door and watch my sister and I play in the yard. When I was sick she would come and lay down next to me and when I was well again she would continue her watchful vigil over the rest of the family. She was my guardian angel, and now as a true angel, I feel her watch over me still.
When she died, it was a terrible blow for me. I wasn't sad that she died, Lord knows that she lived a lot longer than most cats and she lived a lot longer than was she should've due to her health in the final years. I was sad because she would no longer be there to watch over me. No one really knew how I felt about Valentine until recently, when I was telling my mom that I was toying with the idea of naming a cat after Valentine. I coped with my grief silently in the spectral form of Valentine appearing to me in the weeks following her death. Whether it was my mind coping with the loss or if was really her spirit still watching over me, I do not know. I would like to think it was her spirit, and as a child I was convinced it was so. Even in death, she continued her vigil over me. It was as if she wanted to make sure that I would be okay without her. She would appear to me, sitting on top of the stairs, staring down the hallway to my room. She would make eye contact with me then slowly disappear as I approached. She would do this every day at least once.
It was two weeks after her death when I would see her spirit for the last time. Her last appearance seemed much as her previous appearances had been. She was sitting on top of the stairs, however, this time she was facing away from me. Slowly she turned to look at me and just stared at me for a long moment. She slowly blinked, standing and turning towards the stairs. She looked at me once more before disappearing down the stairs. I remember how I ran to the top of the stairs thinking that I would see her at the bottom but she wasn't there. I remember thinking, "good-bye." and I realized that if it was her spirit, she was saying good-bye to me too. Her spirit had remained to make sure I would be okay without her and when she knew I would be fine, and now that she knew that I would be alright, she moved on. I knew when I saw her go down the stairs that it would be the last time I saw her. The fact this appearance, she had literally, walked away, told me that it was good-bye.
I know her appearances could have been the mind of an imaginative child, coping with the loss and that the final appearance was my mind telling itself it was ready to move on, but I still would like to believe that it was her actual spirit, still vigilant and still watchful.
Valentine, I am an adult now. You were right, I did go on without you. I hope you are in a better place and I know you are still, ever watchful and vigilant as always and you always will be.
She was a cat that I had known since birth. Valentine was one out of only two cats my parents had ever owned that were born in their care. She was a beautiful calico with green eyes. She wasn't the most outwardly affectionate cat, she tended to stay on the sidelines and was contented to watch you. She was not a mean cat, nor was she antisocial, Valentine seemed to know that her place was to watch over us and that was how I grew up knowing her. She was the ever watchful, the vigilant, the forever faithful. She would sit on any perch she could see the majority of our daily actions. She would sit at the window or door and watch my sister and I play in the yard. When I was sick she would come and lay down next to me and when I was well again she would continue her watchful vigil over the rest of the family. She was my guardian angel, and now as a true angel, I feel her watch over me still.
When she died, it was a terrible blow for me. I wasn't sad that she died, Lord knows that she lived a lot longer than most cats and she lived a lot longer than was she should've due to her health in the final years. I was sad because she would no longer be there to watch over me. No one really knew how I felt about Valentine until recently, when I was telling my mom that I was toying with the idea of naming a cat after Valentine. I coped with my grief silently in the spectral form of Valentine appearing to me in the weeks following her death. Whether it was my mind coping with the loss or if was really her spirit still watching over me, I do not know. I would like to think it was her spirit, and as a child I was convinced it was so. Even in death, she continued her vigil over me. It was as if she wanted to make sure that I would be okay without her. She would appear to me, sitting on top of the stairs, staring down the hallway to my room. She would make eye contact with me then slowly disappear as I approached. She would do this every day at least once.
It was two weeks after her death when I would see her spirit for the last time. Her last appearance seemed much as her previous appearances had been. She was sitting on top of the stairs, however, this time she was facing away from me. Slowly she turned to look at me and just stared at me for a long moment. She slowly blinked, standing and turning towards the stairs. She looked at me once more before disappearing down the stairs. I remember how I ran to the top of the stairs thinking that I would see her at the bottom but she wasn't there. I remember thinking, "good-bye." and I realized that if it was her spirit, she was saying good-bye to me too. Her spirit had remained to make sure I would be okay without her and when she knew I would be fine, and now that she knew that I would be alright, she moved on. I knew when I saw her go down the stairs that it would be the last time I saw her. The fact this appearance, she had literally, walked away, told me that it was good-bye.
I know her appearances could have been the mind of an imaginative child, coping with the loss and that the final appearance was my mind telling itself it was ready to move on, but I still would like to believe that it was her actual spirit, still vigilant and still watchful.
Valentine, I am an adult now. You were right, I did go on without you. I hope you are in a better place and I know you are still, ever watchful and vigilant as always and you always will be.
