Above is a picture of a beautiful cat that is no longer with us. Her name was Bronte & I have written about her all over this blog, but you can read my memorial to her here. It is very hard to believe she's been gone for over two years now.
Dwelling on my lost children is not something I want to do, at least not in public. I carry them in my heart & I have pictures of them nearby so I can think of them, but I don't need to share those memories & that pain with everyone. I am only sharing this because it's something that comes to mind when I think of hallways.
That was our hallway in Kentucky. Some nights I would wake up for some reason - maybe to go get a drink of water - & who should be there in the hallway but Bronte. Sometimes when she was there the dogs refused to go past her, even though she wasn't mean at all. She was just a bit intimidating I guess. I would laugh & ask her what she was doing there & pick her up & kiss her. Which wasn't what she wanted at all. She just wanted to sit in the hall.
This post is titled "seeing ghosts in hallways" but I don't really see Bronte's ghost anywhere. Our hallway here in Portland isn't nearly big enough for ghosts. But I am glad the show this week is encouraging me to think about her. & how much I miss her. & how glad I was she found us & spent most of her life with us.
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