This full moon weekend brought all kinds of unexpected events.  Saturday morning I was sitting on my bench outside, drinking my coffee, sketching out ideas for the magazine, with bella by my side.  I was out there for a little over an hour and the entire time I heard a kitten off in the distance crying non stop.  It broke my heart but I figured its mama was just out to get food.  Fast forward to that evening and I realized it was still crying, although it sounded like it was farther away.  James and I searched all over the woods and finally found out where the sound was coming from, a nearby brush pile outside of our fence.  I realized the sound was not farther away, it was just a weaker cry.  As we got closer we weren't even sure it was a kitten b/c the cry sounded so mangled.  My mama instincts kicked in high gear and I dug through the pile of brush until I could see where it was.  And there it was, a single baby kitten, with its eyes still closed and umbilical cord still dangling on... I picked it up and held it close, freaking out inside on what the right thing to do was.  I knew we didn't have anything to feed it, and I worried the mama would come back to find it gone.  I panicked and put it back and checked on it about an hour later and it was still there crying the best it could.  I couldn't take it any longer so I cuddled it back up and called James mom to see if any stores in Lakehills were still open that late at night.  Nothing was so we drove the half hours drive to the nearest walmart to get some milk replacement, an eye dropper and a heating pad.  I tried feeding it the whole way home but it was barely able to swallow at this point.  I could feel it getting weaker and weaker as we drove.  I can't remember ever feeling so focused on one thing in my life.  I sung to it, and prayed, and held it close.  Within 5 minutes of being back home the sweet angel passed away in my hands.  At that point I knew I did the right thing b/c it would not of made it through the night outside alone.  It was almost a full ounce under the average birth weight of a newborn kitten.  I'm sure something either happened to the mama in transition of moving her litter, or she knew something was wrong with this baby.  I'm just so glad that it was held through its transition and not all alone at night. 

Last night James and I held a little funeral for Velvet.  (I had already named her, she instantly reminded me of the velveteen rabbit).  I laid her to rest among some lavender, rose petals, a crystal, a butterfly friend to teach her about transformation and a mountain laurel seed from my mama, so she could show her around.  I feel like she is safe.  We put her right under the angel statue we recently moved from my parent's land, my mama's angel. 

I was amazed how quickly we could become attached to this little creature.  James and I both shed tears throughout the weekend.  The next morning James woke up and put his arms out wide for a hug and just said... 'velvet'.  It was so sweet to see the way it affected him too.  At first he was freaking out and upset at the idea of bringing a new cat into the house, but I realized later it was just a mask to hide the hurt of possibly losing it and not knowing how to deal with it. 

And THEN I read my horoscope from Aquarius Nation (the cancer one) and was floored to see how this event related to her reading, and how spot on it was.  This was meant to happen.  I am constantly amazed at how the universe works.

Sunday I found myself so contemplative and depressed, for just about the entire day.  I felt so heavy it was hard to move.  But I did some writing and fully felt what was suppose to be felt, and I know it had its purpose.  Then in the afternoon we had plans to go meet up with some friends for lunch, and I'm so glad I didn't cancel.  It was just about the best afternoon of conversations with people Ive had in so long.  It was full of life, laughter, tears, and inspiration.  We both left with napkin lists of movies to watch and music to listen to.  It was exactly what I need to pull me out of the dark.  This weekend has left me with a huge sense of humanity, connection to all things and my own cycles of life and death.