In Memory of Freya


Dear Freya,

Saying goodbye has been one of the hardest things we’ve ever had to do. You fought bravely until the end and we are comforted by the fact that you aren’t in any more pain. It’s been tough getting accustomed to not having you around anymore, but you will live forever in our hearts and in our memories.

Do you remember the first day we met? You and your mother, along with a pair of other cats, were living with a foster parent. I know it was a stressful environment for you; you always preferred a house to yourself. Your mother didn’t know how to take care of a kitten, and because of that, you had some trouble eating. You were apprehensive about meeting but we still knew you were the kitten for us.

Even though it’s been almost ten years, I can still recall the day we brought you home as if it were yesterday. You were introduced to a brand new world and you were eager to explore it. Watching the videos of you bounding up and down the stairs while chasing after one of your favorite toys – a purple, noise-making ball – still brings a smile to my face. Those first days were tough for you and we can still remember making your first meals for you – rice topped with kitten formula, which you loved.

We loved how you and sunlight were inseparable. Luckily your first few years were spent in Florida where you got plenty of it. You really relished the little bit you got out here. Do you still remember your ritual when encountering a sunny patch? You would circle it, paw at it a couple times to make sure it wasn’t a trick, and then roll over on your back and soak it all up. It was so much fun watching you roll around in the sun outside or relax in the garden. Do you remember how much you disliked walking on grass? Those quirks made you special.

We’ve been to a lot of places together. Two different homes in Florida, two different homes in Portland, and a cross-country drive in between. We had to give you something to calm your nerves on that trip so I don’t know how much of it you actually remember. We tried to let you explore, though. You never were very fond of the car but you did manage to find your way onto my lap while I was driving and even behind the accelerator. You even managed to escape from the car altogether when we had to stop for gas one time.

We still think of you when eating some of your favorite foods. Do you remember how excited you would get when you heard things like a bag of cheese or chips being opened? Or the sound of the top coming off a container of yogurt? I was amazed when you actually learned the words “chips,” “cheese,” and “treats.” “Nummies” always referred to your own food, though, and you got so excited when one of us said it.

Each new day I remember something new. I still look around and expect to see you there. When I open the front door I expect to see you trying to run outside. In the mornings, I still expect to see you gently reminding me to feed you. And when I’m coming home, I still imagine you sitting by the window, waiting for me. You are missed dearly, Freya, and you will never be forgotten.

Omar and Nancy