Some 18 months years ago, a maiden aunt of mine died, she was one the younger sisters of my mother, the strange thing was I never knew of the death until I decided , whilst working in the area to call and see this aunt and another aunt she lived with.
On knocking on the front door, I was greeted by the younger of the two aunts, who invited me in and almost immediately announced “I’m on my own now, Andrew”.
I was surprised and shocked as she went on to explain, I did not say anything by way of negative reaction but my face must have given a clue of incredulous expression of learning about the death this way as she just said “It wasn’t anything personal Andrew, we just didn’t want a great family fuss, we didn’t even tell her old nursing colleagues”

She went off to the kitchen to make a hot drink, I sat alone for a while in the lounge mulling it over and as the initial impact of the news subsided it struck me that what had just happened wasn’t all that traditionally unusual  in that particular branch of the family.
My mother had always said, on occasion, that she felt an ‘outsider’  – she was the eldest of  eight children with a domineering father, with whom she’d always been at odds with, ultimately leaving home at twenty two years of age to marry and then shortly after moving away.

My aunt returned from the kitchen with tea and biscuits and we sat and talked, she expanded on my other aunt’s death and the circumstances surrounding it but didn’t mention the secrecy aspect and I hadn’t mentioned it either, but as I was leaving and we were saying goodbye she did qualify again “Sorry Andrew, as I said it wasn’t anything personal” and I responded that” it was ok and I understood” – but inside I was still astonished.

On returning home, I related the events to my wife , who again after the initial shock wore off observed ” well that’s what you get when you’re not in the inner circle ” – this was so true as those sisters of my mother who had married but had always remained locally and produced children (my cousins) who again had stayed locally were the ‘inner circle’.
After some pragmatic reflection I decided this was so, I still felt a little resentful at not being told, but that was the nature of the beast.

Some six months later, as if to reinforce the above, I got a telephone call from one of my inner circle cousins to inform me that my other aunt had died the day before, at the time of my visit she’d seemed fine.
Subsequent enquiries revealed she been later diagnosed with terminal cancer, but the news could not break out of the inner circle until it became the ultimate scoop.

This blog by Grace51 was first published on Square Pegs (http://squarepeg.overspillers.net)

I put this up in saga a couple of years ago.. 🙂

She was only a cat…how many times have I heard that in the last few days..either spoken or implied. I got her from the Cats Protection League when she was eight weeks old, a tiny ball of fluff that I could hold in the palm of my hand. I called her Fluffy..a silly frivolous name. She deserved better. No pedigree cat was she, though. A hotchpotch of four different colours, black, fawn, and white with a little rust thrown in for good measure. Her paws were one of each colour.
For the past five years she has been my friend, my companion, someone to talk to when I got home from work. As soon as I opened my front door, I would hear, without fail, her little chirrup of welcome. She slept on my bed at my feet, and although my alarm is always set for 5.30, she would wake me at around five every morning by putting one paw on each shoulder with her nose almost touching mine, or sometimes she would nibble my chin or rub her face against mine.
I, like most people, have had unhappy times in my life. Somehow, Fluffy always knew. There she would be, next to me, no matter where I was. She’d sit by me in the garden, or wherever I happened to be. I do think that animals can sense if you are feeling sad.
I went out a few days ago leaving her happily snoozing under her favourite apple tree in the garden. I came home a few hours later to find her little lifeless body, mouth agape, as though in a silent scream. I gathered her up and drove to the vet. He thought she had been poisoned. I’ve no idea how this could have happened, but the thought of her dying such a dreadful death while I wasnt there will always haunt me. Any animal lover will know how I feel. The next day, I buried her under the apple tree. Her tree.
I miss her so..I’ve had to put all her things away where I cant see them, but I keep finding things like little strands of her fur, her squeaky mouse, and my old sweater that she loved to sleep on sometimes.
Only a cat? Ahh no..so much more than that.