There is cat food in the cat food bowl, an odd occurrence in our house, and I walked by it this morning feeling both happy and sad. Our cat, Aunt Eddie, over twenty years old, died peacefully last night.

It's not as if I didn't know it was coming. She was very old and for the last year she has been on thyroid medication to try to help calm the hunger that plagued her day and night.

When my husband came upstairs and told me she had died in her favorite spot, under our table, my first thought was: "Thank You." But still, there's that pulling edge of sadness that comes with making peace with letting go.

My son Solomon said, "She was like a hundred years old Mom, try not to be sad. She's in heaven. She had a great life. We'll see her again."

I loved the tone of Solomon's voice, the certainty of it all, no hint or cloud of doubt of the afterlife and pets being a part of it, a certainty of faith as pure as a child's heart.

Sabra is a writer and editor at ) is featured with permission of . Copyright 2011 by Guideposts, Carmel, New York 10512. All rights reserved.

New Life

At the darkest hour, life triumphs,
beating back despair with irrepressible joy.
And the world rejoices because they know:

One new life makes all death meaningful.

Thank You for remembering
what it is our hearts need,
and providing it in the smallest of ways.



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