Tag Archives: RIP

Happy Kitty

Missy Two Shoes Died Today or why the decision to euthanize a pet is agonizing

I feel a little stunned and the back of my eyes and head hurt while my heart aches. Missy would have turned 17 years old this Summer which is 84 years old in human years.

She was a happy cat, a trooper, and travelled and lived from one coast of Canada to the other with me. She saw me through two major surgeries, marriage, divorce, addiction, and too many parties and both good and bad times to count. She always purred when you patted her and rolled onto her back for you to rub her belly. Missy loved when I whistled The Andy Grifith tune to her. She used to spend hours outside on decks and rooftops, catching moths at dusk or licking dew off of leaves in the garden. She was a great furry companion.

She is survived by Little Orange, her adoptive son, and Skulley, her stepsister and predeceased by Cat McGandy.

I miss her so much right now. It was agonizing taking her to the veterinary clinic this afternoon to euthanize. She lost the ability to walk this morning and would not eat or drink anymore. Her heart was failing and I couldn’t bear to watch her suffer any longer.

I love you Missy. You are truly missed and will never far from my thoughts.

An FYI a RIP and a DIY – it’s the end of the miniature greeting card sets

fish miniature greeting cards set handmade

I began designing and creating these sets of cards in late 2008 and shortly after listing them for sale in the Art Shop. They were an instant success, with people buying them who spanned the globe living on five continents.

FYI – About a month ago, I was diagnosed with mild to moderate tendonitis in my left wrist and hand. And while, yes, I am right handed, I use the left hand simultaneously and just as much as the right hand when doing studio work, artwork, assembling, packaging, cutting, gardening, cleaning, dishes and typing and want to keep the left wrist from becoming too damaged to use at all. Preventative medicine?

RIP – I have about 14 packages of cards left in six different sets. Once they sell out, I will not, in the foreseeable near future be creating more.

DIY – However, I will be releasing and selling the awesome digital file that is associated with each set of cards; 10 patterns wrapped into one download in total. That means, you’ll get the high resolution print files with illustrations included, instructions for creating and packaging them and the supply list too. Expect this pattern to be released later this summer.

Spring Pussy Willows no.2 in Remembrance of My Great Aunt Theresa Moore

I feel as grey and calm today as the weather dripping from the sky outside.

My Great Aunt Theresa passed away yesterday. Theresa was like a grandmother to me. And She was like a Mom to my Dad and his four siblings after my Dad’s Mom passed away when he was five. His father never remarried and Theresa became the surogate Mom to his five children along with raising her own four children. She was a generous and beautiful woman.

When someone dies you can never tell how you will react or when the tears will flow or even if they’ll come at all. They came in waves for me after the phone call from my dad early yesterday afternoon. I sat on deck and simply cried.

Tonight will be difficult and filled with emotion but it will be happy at the same time to see my family, some of whom are traveling from very far away to attend the funeral. The last time we gathered on my Dad’s side of the family was for my cousin Marc’s wedding which was only one month ago.
Continue reading

RIP Cat McGandy – June 1991 to December 2008

cat-mcgandy

Cat McGandy AKA Aloka became ill last week. We thought she would pull through by the weekend. Last night she took a turn for the worse and passed away earlier today.

My friends gave her to me as High School graduation gift in June of 1991. She was the runt of a litter of kitties from a friend’s family farm. She was so tiny and never grew to more than 7lbs as an adult. But she loved life and everything that went along with being the family cat.

The picture above is her drinking from the Fountain of Youth. We all aptly named that little water fountain as she would only drink water from it so daily it had to be re-filled two sometimes three times. She taught my other cat, Missy, to drink from it to.

She is much loved and will be missed dearly.

xoxox

Cat McGandy (Aloka) – June, 1991 – December 23, 2008

At 09:10 Eastern Standard Time my Grandmother, Edith Keary, Died

Grammie and Me

Up until last Friday she had been living on her own. I miss her to pieces right now. We often joked about life, about love and about religion. She had a beautiful aura surrounding her everyday.

Oh, she could make me smile.

This is she and I in the photographs. They were taken by my mother in July of 2007. The one below I snapped on boxing day, 2007. She is so beautiful.

Grammie - RIP - December 25, 1904 to February 2, 2008

I remember being nine years old and staying overnight at her home. The next day we awoke and decided to go shopping. Grammie asked if I wanted to get my ears pierced. I said “Yes!”. We went together to the beauty salon and I winced as the esthetician stuck my first ear then the other, piercing them with little topaz gems embedded in gold studs. I was ecstatic.

I held my grandmothers hand last night while stroking her face and hair.

I love you Grammie.
xo
Jessica

Edith Keary – Age 93
Born – December 25, 1914
Died – February 02, 2008

add to del.icio.us :: Add to Blinkslist :: add to furl :: Digg it :: add to ma.gnolia :: Stumble It! :: add to simpy :: seed the vine :: :: :: TailRank

About Dry Mounting Dead Baby Feet

I have custom picture framed many things in my life. From sew mounting a 24 by 36 inch Peruvian head dress to planning small multiple opening matted family photographs with frame I take care and pride in the work I do. More than that, people trust me with their precious items.

On occasion a *custom order stands out from the rest.

A woman recently came into the frame shop in search of a solution for framing ink prints of both hands and feet of her dead grand daughter. The black prints were on cotton. There was also an accompanying drop of blood on this white cotton. I suggested heat setting the prints, before she poured the planned thick coat of varnish over top of them in her shadow box collage, to set the ink in case it ran after the application of varnish. She left the store with the tiny 6 by 6 inch cotton and returned the following day with her shadow box. She showed me what she wanted to do. I said dry mounting to foam core would heat set the ink. I measured the inside of the shadow box at 12 by 12 inches. She placed the cotton and the other baby memorabilia where she wanted them, forming her collage and I punched those measurements into the framing computer system.

She paid for the mounting, gathered her shadow box, pictures and dried flowers then left. There was this smell. A smell I was unfamiliar with that came unbidden whenever the cotton was exposed… as though life or death was holding onto and surrounding the frame shop. I sandwiched these little feet, hands and blood into cardboard, numbered the bin and thought how sorry I was for this little still born soul. With the picture of the dead baby ringing clear in my mind from a few moments earlier I worked silently.

A couple of days ago I dry-mounted this order. Upon opening the cardboard the smell loomed. I cut the foamcore to 12 by 12 inches. I turned the dry mount machine on. I carefully placed the little hands, feet and blood stain a half inch from the bottom in the center on top of the foamcore. I tacked it on one corner with the heat gun adhering it to the board, lifted the seven foot long machine cover and placed this tiny order in the center. I closed the lid. I clasped the sides. Set the machine to three minutes and 150˚ Fahrenheit and hit start. I prayed.

It was quiet in the frame shop that Tuesday evening. The calm before the Christmas storm.

Three minutes later… beep. BEEP. BEEP…
I hit stop.
Time stopped.

Another 12 seconds pass as I wait for the machine to decompress. I open the lid and lift the light green protective covers revealing these perfect little black ink prints of both hands and feet with blood stain mounted to foamcore. The smell is gone. The cotton now smooth, flat and heat set. The water in my eyes dry and I breath in life again.

Her memory will forever live on now.

RIP

*The exact details of this custom order have been changed to protect the identity of all those involved save for myself.

add to del.icio.us :: Add to Blinkslist :: add to furl :: Digg it :: add to ma.gnolia :: Stumble It! :: add to simpy :: seed the vine :: :: :: TailRank

Little Brian died today

The phone just rang. I answered. It was an acquaintance of my Dad’s. He says to me “Little Brian died.” I said I’d let my Dad know. Then I asked who Little Brian was. “Is he the Brian with the beard who worked with my Dad sometimes at the building? The man replied “yes”. I said I know Brian. He and my Dad are great friends. My chest heaved.

He went on explaining how he had been found in his room, that he had been dead for four or five days before they found him.

Brian didn’t have many people in his life. He had his drinking buddies. He had my Dad. Last month Brian had lost so much weight. The doctors hadn’t given him his prescription for Ensure. He had been starving. My Dad fed him. Ah my Dad is going to be so sad. He drove Brian a couple of weeks ago to the doctor to get that damn prescription and then drove him to the druggist to fill the prescription written for six cases of Ensure. Brian had trouble eating and only had one lung. He was an alcoholic.

I know what it feels like to be hungry and not be able to eat normal foods from having Chron’s disease 10 years ago and from recovering from addiction 2 years ago. And the only damn thing that you can keep down is Ensure.

I miss Brian now. My Dad is going to be heartbroken… They got together once or twice a week to work or go yardsalin’.

Wherever you are Brian you will remembered for your laughter, smile and frank eccentric way of living. The Doyle’s love you.

xo