Still losing track of days over here. All day Thursday I thought it was Friday, and Friday morning the alarm went off and I thought I was going to work out. But it wasn’t Saturday. This morning I awoke into panic thinking that it was Monday. It was 8:15am. Disaster! I had to convince and reassure myself that it was Sunday.
Three weeks ago today, I woke up and went out to give Salem her breakfast and she wasn’t there and she never would be again, but I didn’t know it at the time.
I haven’t spent any significant time outside since. My backyard feels unfamiliar now. It’s different. It’s going to take some time. I have to learn the new terrain out there, the one devoid of the little feline being who brought such joy and who only wanted to be with me. That was all she wanted, ever.
Salem was innocent. She was happy and sweet and full of love and light, and she did not deserve the horror of what happened to her.
Be that as it may, it happened, and nothing is going to unhappen it.
Establishing a memorial site for her felt tremendously important and it took some meditating, but seven days after her death, I knew that the answer was in the stars. Salem and I had our special heart-bonding time late at night, under the splendor of the cosmos. She knew about the elements, and the moon and the stars and the planets I was connecting with as well as the asteroids, as I explained everything to her. She and I were energetically one with each other and with the cosmic bodies, and so I decided to create a memorial site for her up above by registering a star in her name.
In the process, I saw that you can choose to register twin stars. As twin stars, Salem and I can go on being together in the cosmos! Her star is named for her, and mine is called “Skye,” my cosmic name. I chose twin stars in the constellation of Leo because the lion is Salem’s kin.
In Remembrance of Salem, beloved cat of Skye
died: June 27, 2021
(What the inscriptions read at the bottom of the certificates.)
When I received the certificates in the mail, it was like bringing a little wooden box of Salem’s ashes home from the vet. And as I would set a wooden box of cremains on a shelf, I put her star certificate in a frame (alongside mine) and hung it high up in a corner of my office, next to my desk wall.
Because my desk wall, itself, has also become a memorial site for Salem. It was already painted black, so I arranged my blue string lights over the night sky canvas to create a starscape, and while I was at it I designed Salem’s very own constellation for her.
The five circles that make up the constellation’s point stars are Salem’s picture that I cut from the “lost cat” flyers I’d made before I knew that her body had been found.
StarRegister also sent maps that show the locations of our stars. Salem’s star is the circled dot. Mine is the very close-by bolded dot diagonally down and to the right of hers. I have a map with my star circled, too, but I just wanted to post hers:
It’s comforting to know that an aspect of Salem’s energy has a forever home in Leo, and that I’m there with her. I feel that somehow, on some level, in some dimension, Salem knows it, too. And she knows how much I love her and miss her, and how sorry I am that I couldn’t protect her.
Leo was present above the horizon at dusk yesterday, in the west, just after sunset. Venus and Mars were stationed in it. Through SkyView, I could see the location of Salem’s memorial site:
I like to think that Salem is being guarded by Regulus, Leo’s alpha star. Regulus is shown as the bright white dot as highlighted by SkyView:
As well, Salem is being looked after by Asteria, Goddess of the Stars. This artwork of Asteria leans against Salem’s wall:
Finally, I found this patch that I’ve had for almost a year that I hadn’t decided where to put. It’s a black cat constellation! I’d forgotten that I had it. I could not have imagined how meaningful it would be one day. Now I see Salem when I look at it.
I’m not sure when I’ll get back out there to stargaze. Next week Saturday the 24th will bring July’s full moon in Aquarius, and I would like to celebrate her. Maybe that will be the first time I venture out to connect with the cosmos… on the onemonthversary of Salem’s death.
I hope you’re all well, my friends. Thank you for being here, as always.