When I was growing up, my mother was lost in her own world.  She had some mental health issues that made her emotionally unavailable.  Throughout my life, kind people appeared, interwoven like a rich tapastry.  But suprisingly one of the best “mothers” in my life was a little tortishell cat named Tawny.

Rescued during a rare Tennessee snowstorm, Tawny quickly adapted to my tiny bungalow like she had always lived there.  She would delicately jump up on my antique chair, tuck her legs just so and softly close her eyes.

During the years Tawny shared my life, I went through two breakups.  One man I thought was the love of my life.  As the relationships came to a close, I’d sit on my couch and cry.  Rountinely, Tawny would get next to me on the couch, stand on her back legs, and wrap her arms around my arm and back. (No I’m not making this up).  She would rub her head against my arm and whimper soft meows.

At night she liked to sleep just above my head-front legs drapping down near my right ear, while her back lags draped near my left ear.  She also liked to lick my forehead when I laid down.  I often felt she was making up for the tender kisses I never got as a child.

Tawny passed away  many years ago, but she left a graceful, tender mark that still brings an immediate smile.  Motherhood is never limited by blood, sex, age or species.  Who have you been nurtured by?