Although it has been over six months since you passed, Felicity still answers the question "do you have any cats?" with a "yes we do, but Ash died." Your passing has brought on some of the most difficult questions a three year old can ask: "why did Ash die," "what happens when a kitty dies," "will our other kitties die," "will you die," "will I?" I answer honestly to the best of my ability, but, since she's still asking months later, it's difficult to feel like my answers are giving her what she needs. How selfish of me to wish that you hadn't had to leave us, so that I could be spending time twitching the fishing rod for you to catch and petting your handsome head rather than answering difficult questions inadequately.
We all miss your calm and secure presence; no one has stepped in to fill your place as "head cat," but none of the others really have that "good leader" type of personality. Rory has taken to following Tinkerbell around, as she's the only tabby in the house now. I worried quite a bit about Rory at first, since he depended on you so much, but he seems to have settled now and has even gotten a bit more accepting of us humans! I think that it was a true blessing that you were able to pass at home, as it gave all of us the chance to say a proper good-bye. Still, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't miss you and wish you were still with us (I also still tend to think it's you whenever I happen to see Tink out of the corner of my eye).
The other day, Felicity asked me "which star is Ash on?" and I told her that the next clear night, when the stars are out in force, we'll go out and see if we can find it. When we do find it, make sure you give us a nod or a purr or some small meow: remind us that the connection is still there - that as long as you live in our memories, you're still a part of the family - that no matter what, love never dies . . .
your cat mama