Curiosity Killed the Cat… ALMOST

I am taking a step backwards for this post.  My last post was about the day I met my birthmother, however I would like to go back a month prior to that.  I was hanging out at my best friend Marie’s house, she had been an incredible support during this process (and every day since in every area of my life), we spent lots of our time together.  We were about to drive to my house, but when we went outside we saw a cat that looked quite sick.  It was laying on the lawn just about a house away from hers, was shaved from the neck all the way to the tail and looked really rough.  We needed to do something.  Marie tried to get the cat to come to her but it wasn’t budging.  I am more of a dog person, (I never know what cats are thinking) but felt really badly for this particular cat.  I approached it and tried to call it, to my surprise it came right to me!  I picked the cat up and took it to my car.  We would take it to my house and then call the SPCA to decide on what to do next. 

I had just graduated college, and between deciding what to do with my life as well as coping with the emotions of being in contact with my birthmother. I was feeling emotionally stretched.  I was going to my family cottage in a few days to take a month off of life.  Time to relax, spend time with friends and take some time to think about what my plan was, all around. 

I could take this poor cat to the cottage with me, but it looked old and might need medication or medical attention.  I would be quite far from an animal hospital and was already planning to take my dog, this was probably not the best idea for either of us.  When we arrived at my house I gave the cat some water and tuna, she was actually very sweet (for a cat). The SPCA worker arrived at my house and took the cat with her. I wasn’t sure what would happen to it, it looked very sick but I felt it was in good hands and I had done everything I could.

When I arrived at the cottage the following week, my birthmother and I decided that we would email since it would have been impossible to exchange letters through Children’s Aid.  In my first email, I told her about my college graduation and about the poor cat that I found.  She responded to congratulate me and we continued learning about each other.  She also asked more questions about the cat.  She was an animal lover and  I really didn’t think much more of it, until….

On the day we met, my birthmother brought photos to show me.  The first one that she took out was a framed photo of THE CAT…the same one that I found.  OH MY GOD, what if the cat was too sick and they put it down? I killed your cat!! This is a terrible start…..my eyes must have popped out of my head.

As it turned out, my birthmother lived two houses away from my best friend Marie.  I had actually taken her cat off of her lawn! Marie and I had opened the  letters she wrote me only steps away from her house, and then walked by her house discussing them.  As I mentioned in a previous post, being in a small town, Marie and I would often walk our dogs in our pyjama pants.  Unknown to us, my birthmother and her husband called us “the Pyjama Girls”.  This whole time she was so close. Our lives were entwined without either of us knowing, and whether we wanted it or not we were being pulled together by a force stronger than us both.

My birthmother did get her cat back from the SPCA, however she was in-fact very old and passed away shortly after. She was shaved to assist her with cleaning and grooming. My birthmother had gotten the cat shortly after I was born and told me that the cat was a comfort when she was grieving the loss of placing me for adoption.  Perhaps I'm over thinking this, but did the cat know it was me and felt her job was done? For all of the time I spent only a few feet away, I had never seen this cat before....but then she was quite content to just be near me.   

Looking back, there were too many coincidences, the fact that my biological cousin born only 3 months after me shares my name, that my birthmother had lived two houses away from my best friend who I very much consider my family.  I had taken her cat, and the cat would only come to me.  All of these things were completely out of our control and only came together when the timing was right.  She had lived there for most of my life, but we had not crossed paths until it was perfectly orchestrated. If we had met previously, someone certainly commented on how similar we looked, and since I was not shy about being adopted it would have been a shock to everyone when we quickly put the pieces together.

It was then that I knew my life wasn’t just chance.  That I was in fact “chosen” for my family and was always meant to be reunited with my birth mother at this point in my life. 

I am sure many people experience "coincidences" during reunion.  I would love to hear yours.  Please reach out by posting here or emailing PerfectlyChosenFamily@gmail.com  

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                                                                                    Sincerely,

                                                                                                PCF