The Growing Through Grief series
Using Grief as a Creative Prompt
It takes courage to turn to one's art during the early days of grief and yet, it is a deeply special way to process the pain, drama, and shock of loss. Whether your creative outlet is paint, pen, or another form, it is a voice and its expression has value. Countless memoirs are sparked by death; who hasn’t read Marley & Me or Tuesdays with Morrie ?Russian landscape artist Maxim Vorobyov, painted ‘Oak Fractured by Lightning’ (1842) to express the shock and pain of his wife’s death.
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| 'Oak Fractured by Lightning', Maxim Vorobyov |
This month, my writing friend, Kat, shared her beautiful tribute to Freddie. The health decline of a pet can be a slow, subtle thing, the cues of which accumulate in owners' observations of body and behavior. Still, the time-to-let-go always arrives like a bolt of lightning! I thanked Kat for setting her pen to the pain and she replied:
Norman died in 2009 and we then welcomed a tiny female cat to our family. She was Rex number six. We named her Ginger (Fred and Ginger)!
Thank you for caring!
“Deborah, I did not want to write his story and had to force myself to do so. But once I started I began to feel much better.”
FREDDIE
By Kat Hakanson July 17, 2020
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| Freddie, Fireplace Cat Used with permission, Kat Hakanson |
Our cat Freddie died this week. He was 16 and leaves behind the heartbroken humans that he graciously shared his life with. There is a big empty space left behind.
Freddie came to us in March of 2004. We had lost our dear cat, Mr. Peach, the day after Christmas in 2003. Mourning his loss, we found a breeder of Cornish Rex in Goodyear, AZ and, as luck would have it, she had a male cat born the past November who needed a forever home.
Living in Colorado at the time, we made the trip down to Arizona that March to pick up our newest family member. He was a beautiful orange tabby with an incredibly thick marcel wave. He was our fifth Cornish Rex. Someone once told me that Rex cats look like corduroy, an apt description. We called him Freddie, but his actual given name was Mister Rogers of Stonebridge in honor of the famed establisher of the children’s TV series who had always been a favorite of our entire family. We returned to Colorado and Freddie met his fellow resident cat, Norman, who was a meek and gentle little guy. It did not take Freddie long to rule and dominate our household and Norman too. Sweet Norman loved him just the same.
Being 4 months old when we brought him home, he was really still a kitten. He was robust and active, could leap up to the highest furniture tops and we marveled at his athletic ability. His feet were huge and that gave us an indication of what a big boy he would grow to be. Sometimes when he was jumping, he would leap sideways. In his teething stage, he chewed a few holes in the bottom of my brand-new wooden blinds. It still makes me smile when I think of it, but I was horrified at the time! Years later, when the moving day came to leave Colorado, I noticed the chew marks on that bottom shade board and wondered what the new owners would think of them.
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| Window Cats Used with permission, Kat Hakanson |
He loved to watch birds from big windows and the window seat. None of our cats were ever allowed outside so our screened porch became his special place to enjoy the outdoors. Lap time was a favored activity and in his later years he would be extremely put out if there was not a lap available when he desired one. A sunny window was his best friend and he would move throughout the house all day long just looking for that best sun spot. He allowed his humans to share his king size bed. Freddie was a talker and had a lot to say. At times it felt as if he were lecturing us. There was always a greeting when we would come home. Almost until the day he died, he enjoyed playing with his toys in kitten like fashion.
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| Freddie & Ginger, Cuddle Cats Used with permission, Kat Hakanson |
She was a feisty little girl and Freddie could not really dominate her as he did Norman. Life in our household became more interesting. Games and chasing became everyday behavior.
When he was 15, we noticed he was getting very thin. He had lost two pounds since his last checkup one year prior. The Vet did bloodwork but everything looked fine. He was still eating, was active and always into mischief.
With the pandemic, his next yearly visit was delayed. There were problems with using the litter pan now. When he saw the Vet last week, he had dropped to 6.5 pounds as compared to the healthy 11 pounds he weighed when in his prime. He never ate again after that last Vet visit and we could see him failing quickly every day. Suddenly, he now appeared to be in pain and we knew it was time to let him go. Lymphoma and kidney failure were suspected. We were shocked at his final, rapid decline. It was with overwhelming sadness when we said goodbye. We will miss him forever. ###
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| Mother's Memorial Morning Sky D. Chappa |
Grief work that works
The story of 'Mister Rogers of Stonebridge' is now a family treasure. If you are grieving, turn to your art. Don’t worry about an audience--more than ever, this art is for you! If you are a friend to a grieving person, consider creating your own artistic tribute, or offer a gift such as a journal or art supplies, or plant a creative prompt with the question:
How would your feelings show up through…
your camera...your pen...your paintbrush...your guitar?
Thank you for caring!
