Niño

Una casa es el lugar donde uno es esperado. Antonio Gala

A house is a place where one is waited for.

The above quote from the Spanish writer Antonio Gala – 2 October 1930 – 28 May 20 23, has been in my mind since my Rosemary died on December 9, 2020.

When we first were married in 1968 we lived in small Mexico City apartments. We taught English at American companies and our schedules did not always coincide. One of us would prepare dinner. I was much too stupid to notice that I would be served with lots of good food while her dish was meagre. We simply did not have the money.

By the time we moved to Vancouver in 1975 our dinners were regular and we had the presence of our daughters. There was always that “calor humano” of our home.

When we moved to Kerrisdale after a couple of years Rosemary wanted a good car. We purchased a big Audi that happened to have a strange 5-cylinder engine. When I was already home I could feel and hear the odd rumbling sound of the car as Rosemary was almost home.

Once Rosemary died I found myself alone without that often asked question, when I arrived after a day of talking photographs for a magazine. Rosemary would say, “How was it?” Sharing a home, something I did with Rosemary for 52 years has almost left me empty. Why almost?

If I happen to go somewhere (a rare assignment perhaps), or an obligation to pay bills at the bank, I am always thinking about going home. I know  I will be received by Niño and Niña, my brother and sister cats.

They are not Rosemary but because Rosemary and I brought them from the SPCA 7 years ago they are to me the closest connection I have to Rosemary.

They fuss over me, they lie on top of me on the bed and even accompany me when I am scanning or writing a blog in my oficina. Whichever cat arrives first he or she will climb up on a chair next to mine.

Because I am 83 and I believe that statistically I will not be around much longer I notice how Niño (he has lymphatic cancer of the intestines) stares at me. Could it be that he is saying, “Alex don’t  die before I do as who will take care of me an Niña?”

And yes they wait for me to get home. That is comforting.

Julio Cortázar famously said that both his cat and he were alone. The only difference was that he knew but his cat didn't. I strongly disagree.