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Goodbyes make you think. They make you realize what you’ve had, what you’ve lost, and what you’ve taken for granted.

– Ritu Ghatourey

Dear Reader

I've come to believe that a well-lived life is marked by a continuous flow of new chapters and goodbyes. The experiences, whether transitory or lasting, might involve relationships, identities, roles, or beliefs. Each extends its own unique opportunity to grow and evolve. In reflection, the most painful for me have been the endings that arrived so abruptly they stole my breath and left me groundless for days on end. The long, slow farewells, it seemed, made room for grace to slip in and serve as a trusted guide.

Subconsciously, we have witnessed our treasured calico Ruby’s gradual leavetaking. Because the signs were subtle until then, we were able to push what we all noticed into the background. In early August, she began to skip joining me on my morning rounds in the garden and exploring its shady borders in the late afternoon. Come September, she stopped venturing up the stairs to reach her favorite hiding nooks. This month, without noting the deeper meaning I now recognize, I had gradually reduced her feeding to a tablespoon at a time because it often went untouched.

In hindsight, these events should have prepared us for what seemed like a sudden wavering in mobility, cognition, and engagement this week. But even still, I felt the shock of it and knew well the direction it would lead. So this is how I spent my week, providing hospice care to our longest-lived family companion.

No longer comfortable squeezing herself between my lap and laptop or cuddling on the sofa, she spent most of the day and night on her heated pad. As she drifted in and out of slumber, I believe she was weighing the benefits of another rally versus a peaceful slip into the next world.

As Ruby drew inward, so did I, clearing my schedule, wanting nothing more than to share the room with her sweet spirit while I still can. My only venture out was to our local feed store, where I stood frozen in indecision while contemplating the merits of countless squeezable cat foods.

My calico friend for the past eighteen years is walking that narrow path between this world and beyond. Her state declining between the Taurus Full Moon, Samhain, and Día de los Muertos seems no coincidence. Her presence drifts as the veil between the worlds is thinnest.

By week's end, however, as I put the finishing touches on this note, something had shifted. After several shaky days, she greeted me at the bottom of the stairs, ready for our usual morning ritual. Slow and steady, she made her way to her dish, requesting a bite of breakfast. After a few cursory licks, she followed me into the dark of the living room. There, she waited patiently while I lit the fire. Once it caught and emitted a soft glow, I shook out our shared Irish wool blanket so we could both settle in, as we do on the sofa. In the dark predawn, I could overlook her rail-thin frame and imagine this was just like every other chilly fall-to-winter morning we’ve spent over our New Hampshire years. I rest my hand where it gives us both comfort, breathing in these treasured moments.

Will Ruby choose this time to transition, or is she merely taking a preliminary tour, preparing herself and us for the inevitable? Right now, I just don't know. So, like all of the other unknowns, it's just another practice in keeping my footing while navigating life at the end of an era.

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​Energies I will be noting in the week ahead:

Wednesday, 4 November: a Mercury Cazimi and Venus in Rx sextiles Jupiter. I'll be looking out for profound personal aha's or insights and enjoying the potential for good luck, abundance, and beauty from this harmonious Venus-Jupiter aspect.

Thursday 5 November, the Sun begins its transit through Gate 1, universally expanding the potential for creativity.

Until next week,

Follow the Sun October 25- November 4

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