Saying Goodbye To Lily and To an Era In Our Lives

One of the last pictures I took of our sweet, beautiful Lily on the morning of June 20th

With Lily, knowing that this was our last evening together

Lily could be so silly and I loved how she brought laughter into our lives

Lily frequently slept under the covers next to me

Our granddaughter Audrey loving Lily

 Saying Goodbye To Lily

 

This past Monday, June 20th was a rough day. It was the second anniversary of my mother's death. And at 1:20 that afternoon, our kitty Lily died peacefully in my arms. She was 18.

 

Lily had been part of our family for 17 years and 2 months. Within a year after our 18 year old kitty Smokey died, I had adopted both Lily and then later her mother, Daisy. Both had been homeless kitties living at Shorty's Corner outside Sandy, Oregon under cars at a car repair shop. A veterinary assistant made the connection for us with these two cats needing to be rescued. What a gift.

 

* * * * * 

 

A Package Deal

 

When I first moved in with Ron 11 years ago, I came as a package deal. Ron and his kitty Bodhi had been living the quiet bachelor life together for 15 years. Then along comes Molly with her four blondes ― Lily and Daisy and our golden retriever Kodi and yellow lab Mac, who also had been a rescue.

A couple of dear friends have called my husband "Saint Ron," and for good reason. Among them is how Ron welcomed all five of us into his home those many years ago. It took some work, but we were able to successfully become a loving blended family. And our furry family members enriched our lives ever so deeply!

I will be forever grateful to Ron. This was a huge change. And every moment of integrating our families together, both furry and human, was so very worth it. Family is everything.

 

Bodhi and Lily share Ron's lap

Beautiful Daisy, Lily's mom

At the beach with our lab Mac and golden Kodi

Daisy (left) and Lily

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Gratitude

"The work of the mature human is to carry grief in one hand and gratitude in the other and to be stretched large by them."

― Francis Weller

There is profound joy and profound sadness when we give our hearts to love. And now, one by one, all five of our beloveds have died. Bodhi lived to be 18, as did Lily and Daisy, and is buried on our property. Mac and Kodi each died at 11 years of cancer.

Ron and I will be taking the ashes of Lily, Daisy, Kodi, and Mac out to be buried in the Columbia River Gorge on the outskirts of Guy Talbot State Park. This is where my beloveds before them are buried ― our kitty Smokey and our golden retrievers Brook and River. It is an incredibly beautiful and peaceful resting place that is located very close to Latourell Falls. And this park is also a place where my heart holds countless sweet memories with my different dogs dating back to 1978.

And now, along side so much grief for Lily, I am also left once again with deep, deep gratitude. And memories galore. Like Lily chasing away a racoon away who was nearly twice her size. And the time years ago after my divorce when my son Matt and I were living together and Lily disappeared. We were so worried and got in the car and drove around asking anyone we saw if they'd seen this very cute orange kitty. No one had. Then as we drove back into our driveway and looked up ― there was Lily sitting there on the roof of our home. She had climbed a tree and jumped to our rooftop, but then couldn't figure out how to get down. 

There are also the numerous other memories of how Lily and Daisy, Kodi and Mac all helped sustain me in the aftermath of a divorce from my sons' father after 31 years together. Then, and after coming to share a home together with Ron and watching our family grow, there has been the preciousness of grandchildren loving on Lily, who we could trust 100% to never scratch or hurt them. So much sweetness. So many gifts. So much gratitude.

And they do this for us, don't they? Our beloved furry family members enrich our lives beyond what any words can accurately and fully describe. Grief and gratitude, gratitude and grief. As Francis Weller accurately reflects, they are sisters.

There is now this end of an era with the passing of each of our five kitties and dogs. It is so strange for Ron and me to be alone in our home with just Shira left. And we are so very grateful for Shira. So incredibly grateful. 

All around us are these reminders of impermanence and the preciousness of life. And love. I am acutely aware that my story is not in any way unique. If we are human, we will experience and witness these cycles of life and death and new life. What a gift it is to love so deeply. Thank you, Lily.......

With warmest blessings,

Molly

 

"Grief and love are sisters, woven together from the beginning. Their kinship reminds us that there is no love that does not contain loss and no loss that is not a reminder of the love we carry for what we once held close." 

― Francis Weller 

Lily, June 20th, 2022