Lost Cat

My parents came to visit Amy and Me and (more to the point of course) Hale right after the boy was born. My mom brought flowers in this little ceramic kitty thing. On the bottom it's marked, "Randy to Charlene, August 9th, 1967--birth of Scott"

It ushered in a long, long string of meaningful gifting, son to mother, of ceramic cats. Approximately every gift I gave my mother between my birth and, like, my 18th birthday or so, was some variation on the ceramic cat theme.

So, clearly, an important gift in this context.


Well, it got lost. When we moved from the first recovery room to the 'boarding' room (where we, as nonpatient parents of a Special Care Nursery kid were allowed to stay for a few nights), we failed to pack the kitty.

We noticed a couple days later, and when we asked around, nobody had seen hide nor hair ofit. With a big gulp, we put out an all points bulletin around the floor.

Three or four days later it turned up. Not that many things I worry much about, but this was one that definitely put a little lump in my throat when I was forced to imagine it gone for good. Funny how stuff can matter like that.