A Commencement

March 9, 2026 Bernadette

I celebrated the commencement of this year's garden. — I celebrated the commencement of this year’s garden.

We usually associate this with “graduation,” which comes at the end of a process, usually education but that word also means something divided into stages, like a musical scale or shaded colors, a set of containers in graduated sizes. “Commencement” actually means “a beginning,” you have reached the end of something and now you begin something new, typically based on what you’ve just experienced. Together they indicate stages of change, and the accomplishment of one stage, moving onto the next. I celebrated my own commencement in the past few weeks, from deep grief to joy.

I celebrated the commencement of gardening season in my back yard. I finally had the chance between torrential rains to get some seeds in the ground in the top bed, though just barely.

I missed the window last weekend for a small get-together on Saturday. This Saturday with potentially violent weather and heavy rains forecast for later in the afternoon I prepared the soil before a memorial mass for a friend in animal rescue, cleaned up and joined with her family and mutual friends, picked up my greens and spinach seeds on the way home to big fat raindrops on my windshield. Outside in my dress and bare feet, more raindrops but I got the seeds in each of the areas I’d marked off, settled them in, and closed the basement screen door behind me as buckets of rain suddenly fell outside. It was meant to be.

Mimi walks on the old storm windows of the cold frame.

That top bed gets the most sunlight, and I have old storm windows that fit it purrfectly for those occasional frosty or actual freezing nights. Early season goodies, peas, lettuce, arugula, spinach and kale, prefer cool soil and can tolerate enough sun to make them grow faster in cooler weather. In summer the cool season varieties pout, but warm season varieties of all these are available for those hot, sultry days. I look forward to every part of it in this little patch of soil that I’ve loved and nurtured for decades, as it has loved and nurtured me in return.

black cat in basket in garden — I thought the basket was for spinach, but apparently I was misinformed.

After the dark months of visiting the dormant garden each morning and dusk to night, through storms, bitter cold and deep snow, long overcast days and starless nights, delving deep into my grief and multiple losses and life changes, counseling with Mr. Sunshine’s flower, the heavy sadness was worn away by the winter. Now the longer days of sun and warmth of approaching spring expose the joy of gratefulness and continued love that was there all along, like the stars behind the clouds until one night I looked up and saw them.

Turning and raking the soil, walking barefoot on the bricks, my many memories of the felines who accompanied and supurrvised me through the years are full of sunlight and joy, from Kublai to Cookie, Sally, Moses and Stanley, Sophie, Cookie and Namir (different from Cookie on her own), Peaches once, Mimi and Mewsette, Jelly Bean once but no photo, Giuseppe and Mr. Sunshine, and Mr. Max. I tell them every night now how lucky I was to have known them and shared with them the things we both love.

black cat in snow — Kublai out in the garden in the snow.

I know Cookie was purring and pleased with herself on her brush pile.

"My old man", Stanley, dozing in my garden while I work. — “My old man”, Stanley, dozing in my garden while I work.

cat in flowers — Sophie in forget-me-nots.

Peaches on her only foray into the garden, June 24, 2010.

The garden stewards, Namir and Cookie, and the controlled chaos of my garden in spring.

two black cats in garden — Meowga and Meowditation with Mewsette and Mimi

three black cats on fence — All three doing their thing.

Mr Max asking me why we didn't do this sooner. — Mr Max asking me why we didn’t do this sooner.

I’m glad I had the means to just drop nearly everything and work my way through the hardest part. I don’t see how I could have done it any other way. The multiple, overlapping losses, the constant reminders every single day, just haunted me. Carrying around the constant sadness made me feel worse because it blocked the beautiful memories of each of them, and all our lives together, that whole wonderful household. That came to feel like more of a betrayal than letting go of the grief.

I still have attachments and some experiences to write about, ones I didn’t have the time to present as I wanted to, or wasn’t able to use my creative process. All the physical labor I put into preparing my space for the time when my creative senses revived has paid off and I am eager to share the gifts I was given in this time in many ways along with new artwork and other creative projects.

“Good night, I’ll see you in the morning,” I say to Mr. Sunshine’s flower, “I love you all,” I say each night as I look around in the dusk or dark and visualize each of them, then go back in the house to love those in there some more.

The familiar sight of Mr. Sunshine's flower. — The familiar sight of Mr. Sunshine’s flower.

Little visits

You never know where the messages will come from or how the visitor will appear to you. But they will. They love and care about you as they did in life and still want to be near you.

Thank you for following our grief journey after losing seven members of our feline family.

I hope sharing our experiences have helped you in some way, as sharing my experiences with you helps me.

Read more articles about Attachments related to the loss of a beloved animal companion.

Also read articles about Pet Loss and Pet Loss in the First Person, where I share my own experiences.

You can read all the articles related to their loss by tapping the images in the side bar and in articles.

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"Garden Sketch With Mimi", watercolor, 5" x 7" © Bernadette E. Kazmarski — “Garden Sketch With Mimi”, watercolor, 5″ x 7″ © Bernadette E. Kazmarski

A painting of Mimi’s commencement—from garden visitor to garden owner, napping in her territory on a summer morning. I have applied this artwork to just about everything I make. Read more and order.

Copyright

All images and text used on this site are copyrighted to Bernadette E. Kazmarski unless otherwise noted and may not be used without my written permission, although links to your site are more than welcome and are shared. Please ask if you are interested in using and image or story in a print or internet publication. If you are interested in purchasing a print of an image or a product including it, check my animal and nature website Portraits of Animals to see if I have it available already. If you don’t find it there, visit Ordering Custom Artwork for more information on a custom greeting card, print or other item.