Celebrating small miracles--Kennedy's Cat

The remarkable Franchesca came up with this beautiful idea to have a blog hop each month. Every month on the 19th we will celebrate hope. The promises, things, people, places, memories, signs, anything that brings us hope. Link up with Franchesca here or below to take part in this wonderful event.

My small miracle comes in the form of a cat. Yes, as most of you know, I celebrate and remember Kennedy with butterflies, but I will share about the power of them some other time. As I thought about what I wanted to write about today, I realized that I hadn't yet shared Kennedy's Cat story yet in blog land. And as I remembered sitting in group last month, one of my fellow support group sisters mentioned how she never forgets the story of the cat at the memorial park where Kennedy is buried.

Right about the time that Kennedy's marker was made, I would visit pretty regularly...maybe once a week at the minimum. At that point, I found the most peace when I was able to go there and talk to her. So, I would pretty much end up there at any point of the day or night. One night, pretty late, I realized how important it was for me to go visit her right at that second. At about 8:30 on a school night, I traveled to Madison to talk to my little girl. I remember how I cried most of the trip just deep in my grief at that point and missing my baby something terrible.

When I arrived to Roselawn at that time of night, it was very dark. But I always know exactly where to go, and never even really feel scared while I am there. I find so much comfort in being near the resting place of my baby. And it's always so peaceful there. Except for this night... This night started off different right away. When I got near Kennedy's marker, I noticed a cat near the back end of the park. Although, I am a "cat person," I'm not entirely comfortable with an unknown/stray cat. So, I kept a watchful eye on this cat as I started to talk to my little girl.

Almost immediately as I talked to Kennedy, the cat started to move closer to me. As it moved closer, I would step away or just head to another part of "Baby Land." But as I watched this cat a little more it seemed to have such an interesting pattern to the way it was running around or playing. The cat would run to one area of Baby Land and then quickly moved to another. It didn't seem to have any rhyme or reason behind what it was doing. It just quickly kept running around, and the more I watched it, I started to think about what this cat could possibly be running from. Maybe this cat had some powers that I know we all wish we had. The power of seeing our babies. Maybe this cat was running around with the spirit of Kennedy and Kennedy's friends who are laid to rest at that park.

The more I thought about that, the more it brought tears to my eyes and a smile to my lips. Here was a moment where I possibly was watching my little girl play. Here was a sign that my little girl was having fun. Smiling, giggling, running/crawling. Enjoying her life. What an amazing gift to be there at that second. To see a sign that Kennedy was "ok."

As the cat continued to run around, I realized how late it was getting and I had yet to really have a mother-daughter talk with my baby, so I looked up to the sky and said, "Kennedy, I know you must be having lots of fun right now, but if your mommy is to stay and talk to you, this cat will have to go away for a bit." Within 30 seconds of saying that, the cat ran to the end of Baby Land (about as far away from Kennedy's marker as is possible) and sat down. Wow, talk about power. Talk about a sign from Heaven that now my daughter wanted to talk and listen to me. After that, I talked to my baby girl for awhile and then headed to my car. The cat stayed put until I got into my car and shut the door. I then saw the cat quietly head to the back of Baby Land (near Kennedy's marker), and maybe head home for the night. I'm not really sure what happened to it. Although, I have seen one other sighting of it or another cat since.

Heading home that night, I know that I had a smile on my face as I thought about what I had seen that night. I had seen a gift. I had been given a gift of hope. At that point, I needed signs to know my baby girl was ok. I needed signs to know that despite the fact she wasn't with me, that she was being taken care of. That night, I was able to see all of that. And although, I still worry and question how she is doing, I have a good feeling that Kennedy is holding her own. Like her momma, she' s a strong-willed little girl. She's fighting the fight to find her happiness while we are apart. And that night, her happiness was chasing after a cat. Something she would have done with my cat, Lucy, at about this time in her life. Seems so simple...and, maybe, far-fetched, but it's what I saw and want to believe. I know Kennedy was there that night...maybe more in a physical sense than she ever has been before. And I thank the powers that be that sent her to me that night...and all the nights of my life.