Darwin
Friends of Darwin
Misfitbloggers

He loves and she loves

Just Causes

Password required

Enter your email address:

Delivered by FeedBurner

« The company was the same | Main | Tiny plays Powerball »

May 26, 2009

Comments

Feed You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.

Clearly I am vastly overshadowed by the company I keep! :-)

If I might humbly suggest an addition... "Simple Song" from Bernstein's Mass is one that always brings tears to my eyes. Can't find a great link, but this is a pretty good one.

I'll see if I can't find a better version and post a link in the comments later.

It is hard to part from those who show us love.

Stoutcat: I am honored and touched with your kind comments and spiritual gifts. :-)

Oh, Sissy, it is so hard to miss them! For some reason this well-known Eugene O'Neill line came to mind:
"Man is born broken. He lives by mending. The grace of God is glue." Because our beloved animal companions do so much to express that loving grace, to heal the cracks in our hearts, smooth over the rough bits. And when they are taken from us part of us aches again. They remain in our hearts, but a gap opens again in our lives without them. I still miss our Maine Coone, Antigone, who died eight years ago, and yet I also smile still sometimes remembering some sweet or funny or wicked habit of hers...

Retriever: Still smiling when I remember some "sweet or funny or wicked habit" of Baby's . . . Thank you.

I have been listening to some wonderful lectures on CD on Great Books That Changed History, working around themes of good/ evil, fate, God, what is the purpose of life…. the light stuff. I was not familiar with the ancient story of Gilgamesh. Gilgamesh sought immortality and finally had to accept that he, like all other mortals (or in his case part mortal – although how someone could be two thirds god, one third human is a bit beyond me), would die. According to the professor, having been forced to accept his mortality, Gilgamesh then came to the conclusion that his legacy – his works on earth and what was left behind - was what would provide immortality.
As far as mortality, animals are no different from humans. We don’t want to accept that about ourselves, or about the ones we love, but we must. So the question is: “What was/is Babe’s legacy?”
The personal legacy is obvious: you and Tuck loved him, and he showed you love in return. That cannot be over-valued. But Baby had a wider legacy through your photographs and stories. He was a majestic cat, and reminded us readers just how amazingly beautiful animals can be, if we just open our eyes to see. He had an amazingly wide variety of expressions and activities– cat expressions, not anthropomorphized expressions. You were always clear that it was about Babe the cat – a reminder to accept things – animals, people – as they are, not as we want them to be. Because things as they are can be more revealing an ultimately wonder-full than air-brushed fantasies. And in his death, Baby was the sad reminder not to take those things we love for granted because they go away all too soon.
Not a bad legacy, all things considered.

Sissy, I was wrong! (OMG, like that never happened before!) Song is not "Simple Song" from Bernstein's Mass, it is "Secret Song," the end of the Mass itself.

If you can get halfway through without your eyes welling up with tears, well, I'll be amazed. I have a 17MB MP3 file, but can't figure out how to get it to you so that you can judge whether it's lacrymally acceptable.

Two much-loved hymns I can no longer sing without choking up? "Just As I Am," which reminds me so much of my beloved Great Uncle, and "How Great Thou Art," which reminds me of the Princess Mom.

Bugger.

Beloved hymns and a deeply beloved cat creature named Baby Cakes.

The comments to this entry are closed.

The Cold Turkey Cookbook

Kudos

Blog powered by Typepad