He always came when I called
Well… it’s been a LONG time since I’ve written. This week has been more than I thought with the recovering from vacation and other sad endeavors. My cat of 10 years passed away Wednesday night. Banjo was his name…. then again anyone who knows me well already knows his name. He had acquired quite a reputation….mostly negative… yet endearing. I’ve been SOOO sad. I keep tearing up when I think about the fact that he’s gone. Subconsciously while I’m outside I still find myself looking for him. As they would say in England… He was a “cheeky” cat. Full of himself and FULL of personality. I think that’s what I loved MOST about him. Yes… he’d get really mad at us and pee on anything and everything that he knew belonged to me to convey his frustrations…but he loved me… I knew he did because no matter the crime… no matter the punishment…he always came to me when I called.
I picked him up in Nashville at an animal shelter.. I spotted him in a corner cage wearing the softest cream coat and these amazing sky blue eyes.. I debated whether on naming him Banjo or Sinatra… (I know… silly.. there is a point to this information…stay with me)…. I decided on the first since we were now living in Country Music USA… I was single… out of college… ready to embrace..well, LIFE! That cat was my friend those few months alone in my little apartment… He would hop planes and fly home in the cargo hold for Christmas vacation along with all of my other “personals”….He was babysat by all of my family and friends.. .and everyone who cared for him… somehow became endeared. He walked all over Chris’s face as he slept on my couch while we were dating….He would ALWAYS give me MY space in the bed and crowd out Chris after we got married….Anytime he went missing…Chris would call and call and could never find him. I would go outside and he would always come when I called.
He embraced our dog and they became sweet friends. I have pictures of them sleeping together in the crate. He watched me bring every child home from the hospital.. and although he didn’t like it.. I remember during those difficult days with my firstborn..recovering from surgery, recovering from the emotional roller coaster of just being a new mom…he sat on the edge of my bed and never left. I would pat up on my chest for him to come closer… and he would come when I called him. His fur dried SO MANY tears over the course of HIS life….Having fallen asleep to his sweet purring, I had been sleeping with a sound machine long before the children came.
He made the trek to Birmingham with us. We smuggled him into the hotel room… and yes, He kept us up ALL night! I was afraid that he’d run away when we let him outside our new home. He would disappear.. but every time I would call for him.. he would come running. He embraced a new home with us AND our new neighbors.
He began spending time across the street with this sweet young couple. One day the husband came over and asked if this was my cat since they noticed a collar… I explained it was and he just laughed. They had been feeding him… named him, “Sinatra”… and had bought him a bed. We decided that he could come and go between our houses as he pleased… and he did. That was Banjo.
Anyway… so the week we got back from vacation he got sick and those sweet neighbors wanted to take care of him and all the bills at the vet. What a blessing! I couldn’t help think about the fact that they had named him ‘Sinatra’..when that was a choice name I was contemplating… perhaps he was meant to have BOTH names. However, the efforts were unsuccessful. I remember going up and sort of saying my good-byes. I saw my once spry little feline lying on his side…listless. In tears, I gave my usual salutation…”Hey Banj”….he lifted his head. I knew he would have gotten up and walked to me if he could… but he couldn’t. I came to him this time and rubbed under his chin the way he always loved. I said goodbye and kissed his head.
I remember thinking.. .”and this is how it happens”. I had always thought about what it would be like when Banjo dies… I mean that cat has been with me for TEN YEARS!! I’ve had him longer than I’ve been married to Chris…longer than I’ve been a mother….He walked with me through the most changing decade of my life! I was thinking of all of this in my kitchen when suddenly I heard a glass smashing on the floor. Emma Faye had knocked over a glass resting on a chair. I immediately raced over and grabbed her up……quarantined the children to the opposite side of the room while I cleaned up the mess… and I thought… ”this is life”… and life goes on… as quickly as the pain of loss cut into my heart like shards of glass… I was thrown back into life by that same shattering… back into existence…. and we move on. So another life lesson….I think his death has sort of carried with it a passing of my youth… the person I was 10 years ago. Just a realizing that time passes and passes so quickly… I never thought of Banj as old… and I never think of myself as aging. But I am… yet I’m thankful for my growth. I look back and I really don’t recognize that person in the animal shelter adopting that cat. I see someone different… You know, we so value ‘independence’. I think that was what was so special about my time in Nashville… I was “On my OWN, FINALLY!!!”…. and I was independent for sure. Over the course of these years I’ve grown more DEpendent… more dependent on my Savior. And my friends… I regret to inform you… ‘dependence’ is what life is really about and true fulfillment arrives in the dependence upon our Lord. Stop fighting with that part of you that wants to lean on someone… that part of you that can’t hold it all together… let Christ reign. I am a woman more sure of herself.. .more confident in who she is… not because I’ve become stronger… not because I’ve embraced my inner ’strength’…. but because I’ve lost it….I’m weaker in myself and stronger in HIM… I’ve exchanged independence for dependence upon my Lord.. And you know what… I’ve found I’m the stronger for it……..because there is strength in the cross. I’m not saying that I have done these things perfectly or that I have now achieved this complete reliance… no… it’s a daily…well at times… an hourly struggle for me… but I’m struggling… I’m fighting for that. I will say though… that no matter where I’ve been… or who I was at the time… Jesus willingly met me there… He always came when I called–and He still does, today.
