All Is Calm

If you're like me, at Christmastime everything has its place. The stockings are hung by the chimney (with care), the garland in a certain place, the tree in its corner, and the wreath on the door. My various nativities and Santas usually land in about the same place each year.

This nativity almost always is under the tree. And without fail, every year the sheep somehow mysteriously would wind up in various places in the house. Everyday I'd pick them up and put them back in their place, just to find them somewhere else the next day.

A cat's padded paws are so soft. Their steps are without sound. It's a wonder we ever hear them moving about. But we can. After I lost my Eponine, I first was overwhelmed with how quiet the place was without her. She made more noise than I ever realized. And although I never caught her in the act, I know she liked the sheep in this nativity.

A year ago on Dec. 16, I authored my first blog post. That same day, Eponine authored her last. Telling you that My Little Monster was dying and later telling you that she had passed away were two of the hardest things I've ever done. Yet, telling you was what I needed to do. She was a little cat that was so loved by this Cowboy. Having an opportunity to share her was such a huge blessing.

Without you, I never would have made it through those days. I am forever thankful.