Late afternoon on Wednesday, May 15th, 1996, my aunt placed a tiny 5-6 week old brown tabby kitten on my lap. Around 6:30 on Wednesday, May 22nd, 2013, Joanna from until We Meet Again gently removed my Faith from my lap.
She was my constant companion, my friend, my puppycat, my baby, for seventeen years. Even when people weren't around, she was. She didn't mind my Glenda-ish or my jerky movements caused by my cerebral palsy.
For seventeen years, Faith freely gave me pure joy: her purring- what sound creates more pure joy than a kitty's purr; her presence- she was never too far away; her closeness- curling up in bed to read with her right beside me; her kitty kisses- way too early in the morning; her warmth and softness- nap times on the couch were the best; her beauty- and her captivating big green eyes.
And, of course, my office wasn't complete without Faith, my Chief Feline Officer (CFO), in her position at my desk. She excelled at holding down my papers- sometimes even folding them in her unique way, and mooching for treats.
Faith and I weren't intertwined. We were one, in two different forms. Faith cannot be replaced and she will never be forgotten. Her little kitty paws are too tightly wrapped around my heart for that to happen.
Faith, thank you for being my kitty, my baby, my friend.
Mommy loves Faith, now and forever.
Until we meet again…