Thinking. Coming back again from Riga, Latvia, and a trip back in time. To my childhood and my cats.
How I loved them…and most of all Måns. Måns was my favourite… and only Mine. He was shocking black, and he lived a short summer at my grandmother’s.
This is not my grandmother’s house…but it could have been…
This is not my grandmother, sitting outside her house, waiting for me…but in my dreams, she still is.
Her cat, Rose (Rosa in Swedish), was rather wild – but I didn’t realise that. I always felt sorry for her…having to stay outside and never coming indoors for some warmth and cuddling. So, one day I let her in.
I should never have done that…I should have listened to my grandmother’s words. Rose went totally wild and scared when let inside. Of course I had closed the door – didn’t want her to disappear out again. But she was in shock and fiercely climbing the curtains, scratching and screaming…
My grandmother came inside and let her out. She never said a word about it…because she knew my heart. This chaos was punishment enough…and I was so ashamed…
Strange, how faded memories come back to you, when triggered by something you somehow recognize or remember. A house, an atmosphere, a tune, a voice, a word, a place…a cat.
And suddenly those old memories seem crystal clear again. They are just lingering there, in the shadowy, hidden corners of your mind…waiting.
And isn’t that just wonderful.
Måns? He disappeared the same day my school started again after that summer vacation. Grandmother told me. He had followed my steps, down the road and away to school. Never to be seen again.
He was charcoal black.
Leya 
🙂 Beautiful recollection.
Thank you, Manja. reflection is good for the soul.
It is as you say, one little item or place can trigger a whole back flash. That is why I still go to the writing group every Friday. Remembering all these times are very special.
I can understand that. Your spirits awake!
Yes, spirits awake that’s sure!
What a beautiful bouquet of asters! And, however melancholy they make us, it’s good to remember.
It is – good to remember. And those asters were so beautifully alight from the windows, and on that old table. I agree!
Underbar post! Historien med att släppa in katten låter som nå’t jag kunde gjort själv! Det var aldrig aktuellt dock, för vi bodde i sta’n. Bilderna är underbara, framför allt den med höstdahliorna.
Roligt att du kunde känna som jag! Jag ville bara att djuren skulle ha det bra. Visst är dahlior vackra, men jag har inga egna.
Inte vi heller, eftersom vi bor i lägenhet nu. Medan vi hade huset hade vi massor av dahlior for de är makens favorit …
I so enjoyed your photos and memories of your cats and grandma. 🙂
I’m so glad you did 🙂 Memories come to you when you are least prepared sometimes…but most certainly they serve a purpose.
I know the feeling.
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Beautiful recollection of the cats in your childhood, Leya. You write so beautifully, and what way to remind us that certain points in our lives have such an impact on us. Old memories, always there to haunt us but always there to remind us of the lessons learnt.
I hope all the cats eventually found their way. Beautiful shots too 🙂
mabel, we had many cats, but these two episodes maybe are the ones I remember most. my grandparents were so kind and generous – and knew about my passion for animals.
I know what you mean about old memories, at the periphery of the mind, A-C….. Enjoyed reading this post 😊
I’m glad you recognized something of yourself in this. Sometimes I get a bit sad and melodramatic…but that is the way I have always been when remembering my childhood.
Nothing wrong with a bit of melodrama on rare occasions!