to leave...

Surreal morning to wake up to.

It is rather weird to get up and not hear Azureluna pouncing around. As I laid in bed last night after a trip to the ER, heading off to a deep slumber, at first I thought that I heard him shuffling in his litter box. Was just another noise. Then words from my *boyfriend* Thomas at work zipped through my mind, and I broke down and cried. “I have yet

...to leave: yet I already feel lost.”

The jazz last night was excellent, the company even more so. My good friend from my masters program and I got at the White Lamb right at 8pm and nabbed a few good seats. She kept my spirits up throughout the evening. We chatted about my cat from Jasper, Georgia, how he made it to almost 11 years of age, and all of the significance behind the timing of how, where, when he entered my life and the timing of his death.

When I was at university I had a boyfriend for a couple of years. When I moved to Atlanta, things went flying apart and I found myself single for the first time as a young woman. At the age of 24 I was ready to take on the world, yet yearned for the company of someone when I got home to my adorable yet empty house apartment. So off to the mountains of Georgia I drove, up highway 76 through Canton, only to stop at an Amoco gas station in Jasper to meet the woman who was selling him. We got home, he was screaming and rather annoyed, so we hung out a bit. Later that evening I went outside to think about what to name him. I thought about naming him after the city where I picked him up, and the fit was not quite right. I then thought about the color of his eyes—a piercing blue—and started translating it into different languages. Azul, nah. Azure, it is a type of blue, good start. The moon was out and it hit me—Azureluna.

In less than 2 weeks, after nearly 11 years of never understanding fully why I have been running from myself in my early adulthood, I am whole and am moving to Switzerland alone. Single for the first time since I bought Azureluna. I honestly feel that he knew it was ok for me to continue my journey alone. As he sat on the examination table yesterday, I looked at him and asked if he was ready to go. He slowly blinked approvingly.

The vet administered the first injection to allow him to sleep. Of course, over the years he always seemed to get in the last word and as the first injection went in he bit my thumb, nailing it right at the tendon. It is still swollen this morning and hurts like hell. I held him in my arms as he snored, singing *Prince Nez*, the song I would dance to with him when he was a kitten by the Squirrel Nut Zippers. The second and final injection was administered as I held him, and quickly he went to sleep for good. In his mother’s arms. He was pronounced dead at 17:20 yesterday, a holiday in Europe that celebrates the Ascension of Jesus (not a religious person here, just found the coincidence interesting!!)

So this morning I started cleaning up his things, nursing my thumb and now arm. My thumb was hurting, the tendon was inflamed last night and I decided to call the emergency doctor to see if I could get an antibiotic as a preventative measure. When was my last tetanus shot, he asks. Oh great. 1983. So at 1:30am I am in the ER, speaking in Danish to the nurse, telling her how I hate needles and shots. She quickly grabs my left arm and gets me, meanwhile I am yelping curses in Danish—aye for helvede, for fanden. She laughs after it is over, commenting that my Danish is rather excellent, considering that when I first got in I explained in Danish that I speak Spanish and English and that my Danish is not that good. I was indeed proud, first medical examination I did without speaking English. Even more so impressive, since earlier in the evening I was speaking Spanish to someone at the White Lamb and usually it takes a few days for me to flip languages in my head.

So back to the quote that started this entry. When Thomas said it last week, it was rather touching. What a beautiful saying. And it occurred to me last night that Azureluna felt lost to a degree, for he can tell that a move is underway and he does not like change. Yet he knew I am no longer lost, complete and whole, and therefore he was ready to leave.

On the flip—what if we do not have the strength to move on? How do we know we are at that place where we can?

Intuition for starters, at least for me. Early in the morning of 23 April, I woke at 2:30am and made sense of a few things. I let go and surrendered to one notion, and everything spiritually, mentally and emotionally came into alignment. I felt a peace I never had before, and I was pretty sure that my moving on to Switzerland felt right. That my thoughts of being whole were spot on. With Azureluna dying, nearly 11 days before my move to Switzerland, it is a sign for sure.

In trusting the process, everything comes full circle, revealing itself when it is time to do so.

As for my little man from Jasper, Georgia… he will be cremated on Monday. I am still thinking about where to spread his ashes, and for sure there will be a place here in Denmark, his last home. As for Switzerland, well, it does not feel quite right, to bring his ashes (or even a part of them) there. Although I will be leaving him here in Denmark and going to Switzerland alone, sometimes we have to leave in order to come back.

question: when are you found?

circle of...

Another significant day.

In September of 1996, I bought my cat, Azureluna, in Jesper, Georgia. I was living in Atlanta at the time, starting my life as a single woman. I brought him home and starting dancing with him to the Squirrel Nut Zippers, a New Orleans style jazz band from North Carolina. I would sing to him and swirl him around.

He has seen many boyfriends, husband, I always referred to him as the most consistent man in my adult life. And today I had to put him to sleep. So the

…circle of: life continues, orbiting peacefully onwards.

I think he knew that it was time for both of us to move on.

For the first time in my life I feel complete, unafraid, whole and healthy. He has been at my side all these years, and I think he instinctively knew that it was time. I finally had my heart, mind and spirit align about a month ago and I think he felt that I was just fine to go on alone.

As we got in the car today, I wanted to play the Squirrel Nut Zippers CD I first played for him when I got him almost 11 years ago. The CD is titled *Hot*, and his favourite song was *Prince Nez*. Then I remember I left it on my colleague’s desk back at work. And funnily enough, I mentioned to this colleague earlier in the week that I was going to the White Lamb this evening to see some good ol’ New Orleans style jazz live. The only place in town that has it. Thursday nights are special, for throughout the evening more and more people show up with their instruments. By midnight there are 16 or so pieces scattered throughout the crowd.

What a befitting way to celebrate the life of my little man, my Azureluna from Jesper, Georgia. Thank you for being a supportive and loving force over the years.

question: how do you celebrate?

comfortable silence...

Today marks the three year anniversary of when I hopped on a plane, leaving the US and heading for the unknown in Denmark. Something was telling me to not go in April 2004. I remember it vividly. In fact, it was 25 April, outside of my best friend’s house in St. Petersburg, Florida. I was crying. I knew that the person I was going to was not ready for me, and I not he, I knew it. I had this deep feeling that things were not going to be easy. Yet at the same time, another part of me understood that I had just a few more challenges to go and that I had more growing up to do. And even though these past three years have been tough, I am all the better for it. For the first time in my adult life I can sit in

…comfortable silence: no panic, no little person at the wheel, acting and reacting as a grown woman

in all situations. Not feeling attacked. Not feeling let down, abandoned, in pain.

Not to say that I do not have those down days. The work it has taken spiritually to get here has been a painful journey. Yet had I not done the work, I would not be free. I look back and wonder in amazement as to how long I operated from a painful place, how I used to be defensive, scared… oh I could go on. I had not healed from the past.

Had I chosen to leave DK any sooner, I would have been running. And a part of me deep inside knows that I can return one day if I choose. I had to settle things here first, face things here first, and in doing so I have found my authentic self and am whole.

On the flip—what if we do not take that painful journey of self discovery?

I have lived through the results of surviving in pain, unhealed. Not taking the journey means we are not whole and it is impossible to give ourselves completely to another without being whole. Well, we can, but it would be destructive, full of co-dependency and disappointment, where neither can become beautiful human beings.

By the way, you are most brave and I am proud of you. Fearless indeed.

question: what is your path?