On Rosemary’s side of our bedroom closet she has quite a few cloth and plastic bags from places like MOMA in New York, Italian museums in Venice and Florence and a few from Buenos Aires. Every once in a while I become curious and I inspect their contents. What I found today is what I would call a love letter to and about two cats.

Niño & Niña

Rosemary wrote this letter of instructions to the Kerrisdale Veterinary Hospital on the day that we were going to fly out to Venice. We dropped Niño and Niña off and I never noticed Rosemary’s lovely love letter.

When a loved one I lived with for 52 years died, I was left with memories of a garden, photographs on the walls and our bed with that empty spot where she spent so much time in her last weeks before she died on December 9, 2020.  But I am thankful that I was also left with Niño and Niña.

Seeing her lovely handwriting now hit me straight through the heart. 

It reminded me of an incident some 20 years ago at the Kerrisdale branch of our Bank of Montreal. I was sitting in front of a young Chinese woman who was helping me on some queries. I looked at her writing and I immediately said, "You are Roman Catholic, you are from Hong Kong and you went to a nun’s school."

She could not believe how I could possibly have known. I was correct. It was her handwriting.

How will future people my age, many years from now, experience what can only be felt so poignantly by looking at the cursive writing of one’s dear spouse? 

Seeing that handwriting, and sharing the day with Niño and Niña, now are about the same. Both are intimately connected to my Rosemary.

I only wish that Rosemary had been less reserved and had written to me a letter such as this one.