We Interrupt This Vacation...

We interrupt this series of vacation posts to share some sad news.

 

It is with very heavy and sad hearts that Rick and I said goodbye and thank you on Wednesday to Gypsy, the Marmelade cat that you see each time you visit this blog.

As some of you many know, he has been treated for kidney disease for about a year now and in February we nearly lost him. Our reprieve was all too short but we made the most of every minute of every day together.

He took a down turn while we were on vacation, and though he rallied a bit when we returned, he just couldn't get up to speed. I think he decided to let go before we decided to let go of him and was gently easing his way up to the Heavyside Layer (for you T.S. Eliot/Cats fans.)

On Wednesday morning we called his wonderful vet, Anne Rice, to help him make the transition. Anne is a holistic vet and a visiting vet. (Gypsy's first encounter with her is HERE.)

If you are fortunate enough to know Anne, you know that she made that transition easier not only for Gypsy, but for Rick and me, as well. We've often said, "She treats the people as much as the pets" and today was no exception. It was a very peaceful passing, outside in the sun, as we held and pet him, cried, and let him go. Perhaps in his mind, he was on his favorite couch at the lake. Or maybe he knew right where he was -- on the lap of the woman who found him, took him in and loved him.

The past few days have been incredibly hard as we watched Gypsy decline and begin to give up the fight. His last gift to us was last night, when in the middle of the night, he managed to climb into bed with us. We had made him a little set of steps (kitty litter boxes leading to a chair and to the bed) and until a week ago, he'd been able to go up and down easily. But his legs started to give out and the slippery litter boxes and their height was a challenge. He had hardly been able to walk for the last couple of days so this was very hard for him. That he did so was a true gift, a last chance to be with his peeps. That he did that means more than I can say.

Gypsy has given us a lot of gifts over the nearly 15 years he's been with us, including a mouse in the bed at the lake, plenty of giggles and unconditional love, lots of smiles.

 He was the master of quiet and wise understanding -- I called him my best Secret Keeper -- he never told a soul. (Oh, the blackmail money he could have hauled in, had he command of the English language!) I learned wonderful lessons from him, too, about cherishing the moment and appreciating each and every treat tossed my way.

It is clear that Gypsy "owned" me -- I never "owned" him. I had the privilege of being his person, cat-mom and guardian and he had me wrapped around his pretty striped tail and right in the pad of his gentle, soft paws..

We could tell things were changing in so many ways. But even in his last two weeks, with failing hind legs, he would try to sit up for his dinner. Then he pretty much lost interest in food.

In his last months, he was getting his nightly IV "juicing" treatments every night and each night he took it like a champ, never fighting it. It became our special time together. I'd sing him "Juicing" songs, sometimes give him a damp cloth bath, since his grooming skills had slacked off a bit, and pet and loved him. It never seemed like a "must do" but a "want to do." If Gypsy didn't want to do something, he wouldn't, so I think it was OK with him, too.

If you've read The Marmelade Gypsy for any length of time, you may well know that Gypsy happened into our lives when he was six-to-eight weeks old, a stray, probably dumped.

Boy, someone sure didn't know what they were doing when that happened. He was an adorable kitten, and even sweeter and more loving as he grew.

He was the subject of at least 71 posts, including this one of my favorites. And, in this post, I described how he found us and eventually, in addition to his job of being an executive assistant, was also a remarkable pet therapist, who knew a little about healing.

Every day of his life I was glad that he chose me to be his person and Rick soon after that.

In fact, Rick was his best bud. He treated him like a dog and Gypsy loved it. Whenever Rick came over, Gypsy was right there, waiting for treat-toss, his favorite game, or maybe a bit of breakfast from the early riser.

Our pets are more than animals to us, but our family, and Gypsy was my little boy, eternally three, like "Elmo" and always filled with wonder, energy, joy and love.

Our hearts are broken. We know they will heal but there will always be a space that only Gypsy can fill. He'll have to do that now as an angel. And we all need angels.

Rest in peace, Gyppy Rose, Gypadeedoodah, Sweet Boy. You'll live on in The Marmelade Gypsy.

Bon Voyage!

There was really only thing I wanted for my birthday -- that was for Rick to go to Paris with me. Those of you who have traveled "across the pond" (or just about anywhere else, for that matter) know that it's not an inexpensive venture. So, when Rick said it was time, we began to plan. And eight months later, on an April morning, we set off!

Our flight was uneventful -- on time, not full (so we could spread out and sleep over a couple of seats). When we arrived in Paris and met by our friend and host, Jerry, we were ready to go!

After a stop at the boulangerie and a snack after dropping our bags at Jerry's, we set out on a walking tour.

  For me, this was an encore; for Rick, all new! First stop, Notre Dame!

Initially, the lines were long, but a downpour (the first of numerous consecutive rainy days) helped either speed up or break up the line. Truly, the church was a sanctuary -- in more ways than one!

And, it was a lovely one -- dark, beautiful, filled with history and lovely art.

 We even saw what the church said was the Crown of Thorns, which was on display.

This shocked Jerry, who said that happens very rarely.

The photo and description above aren't at all good, but I put them here, in case you are familiar with this -- it may then make a little more sense to you.

I said a little prayer for Gypsy and for my friend Julie, who was very ill. You couldn't help but "think prayer" everywhere you went.

 It was still raining when we left, walking around the side of the great church, where trees were in bloom.The rain and clouds made for glorious colors when photographing flowers!

Located close to Notre Dame, just on the edge of the Ile de la Cite, is the Holocaust Memorial, honoring the Jews who were rounded up in Paris during the Holocaust and deported to concentration camps.

We weren't allowed to publish photography from inside the museum itself, so these two photos are outside -- the wall and the frightening-looking gate. Inside, it was small, with carved quotes on the wall. Most moving was a hallway of 200,000 crystals lit from behind and an everlasting flame, representing each life lost. This memorial is free, but there was a line to enter as it is so small, only a limited number of people can come in at a time.

We moved over to Ile St. Louis, site of fictional detective Aimee Leduc's apartment. (See reviews of these mysteries set in Paris at my other blog, Chopsticks and String.)

I loved the winding streets and charming shops.

Rick loved the bikes!

Heading back to the Marais, where Jerry lives, we stopped at our third church of the day -- St. Gervais et Protais, one of the oldest in Paris, started in 1494 and more or less finished in 1578.

It was the site of the worst shelling by Germans during WWII, killing 68 people on Good Friday when the roof fell in.

  A service was taking place during our visit, so most of my photos are of the beautiful chapel.

It was at St. Gervais that French composer Francois Couperin's family was at the helm of the church's organ for two centuries beginning in the mid-1600s. (We found this out later so Rick had to make a return visit to check out the organ that was associated with one of his favorite composers!)


It was a full first day, but a wonderful one and we eagerly looked forward to many more wonderful days in Paris, Amsterdam and London! Stay tuned!

NOTE: While I was away, Blogger changed their site and I can't seem to get the spacing right -- anyone with ideas? Help!

I'm Back!

First, thanks for stopping by to check some of my encore posts -- I haven't been able to reply individually to comments as I usually try to do, but I'm catching up on each and every one and they are all so appreciated! I've missed you!

I'm back from a terrific vacation -- you'll never guess where!

Or what I have been eating...

...and drinking!

But these are pix from last time! I have thousands of photos to edit! (These are golden oldies!)

So look for new posts of Paris and France, Amsterdam and the Netherlands and London over the next few weeks.

And yes, somewhere along the way, we'll be having a drawing!

You'll hear about being with old friends and new, bloggers and non-bloggers, and yes -- lots of rain! You'll see windmills and museums, festivals and churches, tradition and history, landmarks and spots of beauty. 

So much to share! Thanks for coming back after my break!

Remembering Mom

As they say, "I'm curling up for a nap...or something." I'll catch up with you soon, but until then, a few of my favorite posts, honoring people who have made a difference in my life. If you're new to The Marmelade Gypsy, I hope you'll take a few minutes to meet some people who mean a good deal to me -- and may inspire you, too.

Today, May 4, would have been my mother's birthday, so in memory and honor of you, meet my mom.

* * * * * *
Missing Mom
May 2009

My mom would be 94 today.

She died when she was 58. I have tons of photos from our years as a family. We always took a lot of pictures -- she and dad were amateur photographers, right down to the darkroom in the basement. But the photos I love most are those from long ago. Especially those taken during her childhood summers at the lake.

This might be my favorite -- Mom, on the left in front, with her three sisters. She's laughing so hard -- she always laughed. And I have seen myself laugh exactly the same way.

There was always a camera at the lake. Lots of kid pictures...(this is her younger sister Grace).

But when she and her best friend Fran were older, they'd dress up and take pictures of each other on the beach.

Mom and Fran would knit their clothes -- Mom made this one!

(I don't know about you, but if I had knit this dress with the angora on top, I wouldn't have posed sitting in the sand.)

Even on a picnic they wore hats. (She would have been great at the Royal Wedding!)

It was a different time -- a time when women wore skirts at the lake, for one thing.

And oh, how I wish I'd picked her brain more on all these stories while she was still here to tell them.

Soon, soon, soon it will be summer. And I know the first person I will visit -- as I do each year -- is Fran, who will tell me more stories -- and remind me of my mom. I can't wait.

(Another "Mom" post is here!)