Moving Things Along But Keeping the Memories

February 16, 2026 Bernadette

Hamlet never stopped sleeping in his basket. — Hamlet apparently doesn’t mind me moving things as long as his familiar things stay.

This is another entry in my series “Attachments” about the things with which we develop attachments because they have some connection, however distant, with an animal companion we’ve lost, often associated with the time of their decline or loss.

In this instance, instead of an item, change to a space in the house that was in process with last week’s article, the resolution of my somewhat fearful resistance to changing a long-time feline gathering place with years of cherished memories and my concern about the idea of eliminating those memories as I would use the space for myself as well.

One of the changes I’d been stressed about in my post last Sunday was moving things out and changing the beds and baskets setup under the big north casement window, next to my desk. It was a big change on many levels, and the possibilities of change being painful and feeling wrong were many.

In the past week I actually completed that change, and it came together as if it was meant to be, with the approval of cats past and present. In my own thoughts and in those “conversations with Mr. Sunshine” I considered the change and its impacts at length, and laid out a plan for making the change with awareness and respect. I also sensed from those “conversations” that “it would be okay,” and that reinforced a theory about those conversations and my attachments.

The office sleeping area

I’ll call it the “office sleeping area” for wont of a better reference, because I never really called it anything, it just was the spot where most of the cats slept, through the years, when I worked at my desk.

The base of it was three two-drawer file cabinets with a 24 x 48 inch piece of particleboard to be a single surface over the cabinets on which I’d practiced a decorative paint effect. Next to the file cabinets with the decorative top was a large cat tree fitting into the corner of the room next to the closet wall, the landing on the steps and the last three steps. Or at least, that’s how it was for most of the time the cats I’ve recently lost were a part of that space.

A little history

From the time I moved in here to 2006 I actually had most of my studio materials in this same room, including my white folding drafting table and my painting easel, plus all the pastels and other drawing and painting materials I used then. I had found it easier to do all my freelance and creative work in the same room and with my day job it was easiest to have it all downstairs.

Namir on my drafting table when my studio was downstairs.

I used my upstairs studio for (1) my books, (2) fostering cats, and, (3) my larger projects, like painting signs and banners, laying out portraits or constructing freelance displays I’d built using the big wooden drafting table. I had a PC computer in my office downstairs but just before I began working at home I found I needed a MacIntosh but no room for it on my desk downstairs. I set up the Mac in the studio and added a tall four-drawer file cabinet, but did get tired of running up and down the stairs for filing and retrieving paperwork all the time.

By 2006 I’d been working at home for over six years and we were still using a fair amount of paper in correspondence, plus I printed out emails and such for my files and I was still finding new customers, and you keep your business paperwork for seven years. I was also managing healthcare for my mother and brother and had a volume of paperwork that I needed to keep. I needed more filing space before it all ended up in boxes all over the room (which it eventually did, but not as soon as it would have).

The drafting table was in the same space the file cabinets have been, and because it was in front of the window it was always a favorite cat place as you see Namir, above. I can see by photos of them that I started shuffling furniture around in that spot some time in late October 2006 through November 2007 and later. Lucy was always in that area because she was always near me, and when I made the change she never missed a beat and simply sat on whatever was there.

First I replaced the drafting table with a basic four-drawer cabinet and a nice solid wood top that fit the files I needed to keep handy, here from March 2007 with Cookie, Namir and Lucy, and left the easel in place to display art and to occasionally work there.

Namir, Cookie and Lucy enjoying the window while I enjoy them.

But that filled in less than a year. A friend/customer was moving his office and offered me the three file cabinets which I could see would fit perfectly in that space under the window. Incidentally, the four-drawer cabinet went into the kitchen under the window, replacing “the cabinet” that moved to the center of the kitchen for all cats to line up and observe me, as it was until 2003 when I had the renovations, just changing dining tables.

Of course, we lost Lucy on July 10, 2007, and Mimi and her kittens joined us on July 29.

So that setup was there almost all their lives, the file cabinets filling up and overflowing, the easel in the corner replaced by a large new-to-us cat tree I’d pulled from someone’s trash, then as they wore that one out replacing parts of it with parts of similarly sourced new-to-us cat trees.

All the cats, Mimi and the kids and Cookie, Kelly, Namir and Peaches plus fosters gathered on the wood top of the file cabinets and the overflow landed on my desk.

tortoiseshell cat and tabby cat — What were Kelly and Dickie doing at the time?

At first I left it open for them to lay all over, then added a blanket or something crocheted now and then.

I was overrun with baskets from collecting them from you-know-where and decided the cats could sleep in the ones I didn’t use. I put one or two on top of the file cabinets and they were a hit, adding more as time went on. In summer I usually put them away so cats could sleep on the wood top and be a little cooler, then pulled them back out as autumn temperatures flowed in the window.

"Deep in Sleep", Sennelier soft pastels on pastello paper, 10" x 6.5" © Bernadette E. Kazmarski — Inspired by a mid-summer nap on the decorated plywood, “Deep in Sleep”, Sennelier soft pastels on pastello paper, 10″ x 6.5″ © Bernadette E. Kazmarski

So many memories

So of course I have more memories than I can recall of cats at all times of the day and night gathering there, watching the birds at the feeders, sleeping through the afternoon and through the night when I was up late, watching foster kittens growing bigger and playing on the cat tree, discovering the window, and being invited into the boxes, beds and baskets by their elders. Kennedy coming down the stairs on what would be his last day to walk across the cabinets and stop to look out the window, Hamlet and Ophelia flopping down exhausted after chasing each other around the house, Alvina, Simon and Theo lined up at the window intent on the birds right outside, Mariposa interacting with the ninjas and fitting herself right in with them, Basil in the yellow basket, Bella wrapping herself around her big crush Mr. Sunshine nearly every day, just turning around to look at them all there every day gave me the bit of a break I needed while working.

And recently I watched seven cats grow ill, decline and disappear from there over the past three years. It’s what inspired Basil’s portrait with the yellow background…

"It's Basil!," pastel, 12 x 12, 2025 © Bernadette E. Kazmarski — “It’s Basil!,” pastel, 12 x 12, 2025 © Bernadette E. Kazmarski

…and was the place Mr. Max clearly chose for his last moments, and where Dr. Elgersma and I set him free.

He left us and got himself into the basket, and waited.

I left all the baskets in place during all the losses until autumn 2024 when my neighbors left me with two tall ficus plants when they moved. The only spot I could find indoors was the top of the cabinets, if I removed one basket. Seeing empty baskets just brought it all back, all the time, removing one was good.

That worked for the five cats down here. When we lost Mr. Max it seemed like too many, and it was hard to turn around and always see more empty baskets so I removed another, leaving the yellow basket and the basket with the big cushion, the two which had been used most often.

I don’t need the file cabinets but…

Over time from 2020 to now I cleared the file cabinets of most paperwork as the seven-year rule allowed, customers retired, and we all quit using as much paper. I filled the drawers with my sorted boxes of greeting cards, envelopes and packaging, very handy.

But the idea of actually removing the file cabinets was bittersweet for another reason. The need for them six years into self-employment looked like success to me giving them some sentimental value, and I might just hold onto them for me.

I’ve always known that I set myself up here with no place for me to just sit and not work, except outside, which I do enjoy. But no place to even sit and read or crochet, put my feet up and rest, over the past few years as vendor shows and making things has made my work more physical on my feet than it used to be I’ve been feeling the need for that. I considered moving out my corner desk, but the way I have it set up supports all the printing I need to do here, all my computer peripherals and the limited number of work files plus personal files I have, plus a big sentimental attachment as the desk that saw me through it all since 1995. That left the file cabinets. I let myself think about it.

I found a new place to organize and store all my cards and emptied out the file cabinets last year. They sat there, empty, for months. I knew the best thing for me to do was to open up that four-foot span where a small loveseat or other piece of furniture that would suit me just sitting down would fit perfectly. But the idea of taking away all the baskets and napping places the cats loved and still love wasn’t going to work. Sure, they could sleep on whatever furniture I put in there but they loved being at window height. They could sleep on the back of said furniture, but they had always loved sleeping in containers, especially baskets. I would find something to put behind the furniture for the baskets.

I loved the idea! I could picture it in so many variations, could imagine sitting there with the open window, putting my feet up and listening to music, having a place to crochet that was more comfortable than my desk chair or the kitchen table.

But I knew it was far off. I was holding out because of the importance of this spot in our household and history and all those memories so fresh for me. I deciding when the perfect seating arrangement came up, I’d go for it. I trolled free online postings.

This was what I’d been discussing with Mr. Sunshine

Removing that area with so many memories might really hurt, and it would also disturb Hamlet and Bella from their longtime sleeping spaces. This particular set of cats might not take changes so easily. So first I considered the best way to accommodate the cats with the two baskets.

A book case—and I had an extra 36” one upstairs after the reorganization I’d done in the studio that would fit the two baskets in just about exactly the same place they were in with a separate end table for one of the ficus plants. Perfect!

Okay, what about my chair? I could picture a big yellow wing chair—which I’m sure was inspired by that yellow basket—and ironically IKEA has just the one I want. Wouldn’t fit. I could make it fit. It almost scared me how it was coming together more quickly than I was ready to accept it. I had a cherry mahogany side chair my mother had used with the bedroom set upstairs that had been in my display here for visitors to sit, though it was otherwise piled with my stuff. I could use that for now.

But what would I do with the file cabinets? I already have enough stuff on my porch and deck. When I found what I would do with them I’d decide about my chair. I could find a metal scrapper.

The idea of just putting them outside for a scrapper to destroy them felt disrespectful to all the memories and to my sentiments too. I would not do that. They were old but still in perfect shape inside, a little battered on top but otherwise clear. They worked as well as they ever did. Besides, I’m always reusing things, upcycling, pulling usable things out of the trash, and finding a place for my own goods to go for reuse when I no longer need them. They were good enough for someone to get more use out of them.

Was I just trying to postpone this because of what I was sure would be hurtful?

I use Freecycle to move things along that still have use, like these, and decided that was what I’d do, and as soon as someone was interested, then I’d think more about my chair. I took photos of them and related a bit of their history and the fact they could be used for lots of things other than papers. I shared them on Freecycle and waited, thinking it would be weeks if at all.

To my surprise three days later I got an inquiry from someone who was going to use them to store tools, same reuse and recycling philosophy as me. It was the perfect offer.

OMG, that meant I had to face this whole thing, now!

I let the guy know I’d need two to three days, weather depending because of the snow, to get them out of the space they were in and onto the front porch.

The realization that it was me all along

Along with other changes that would or could come in the future I had talked to Mr. Sunshine almost every night about this for weeks. When the offer came in I told him about that too. The following night, talking through my thoughts, I remembered the history of that area, how it had changed and evolved over time and whatever happened with it, all the cats had always just adapted to it. Dr. Elgersma brought over a big new cat tree in August and I had decided I needed to remove the old one, pieced together and with lots of cat memories, for this new one, for Mr. Max, who enjoyed it for his last two days so it was totally worth it. Here or in spirit, they weren’t stuck on things staying the same, they liked change.

It was me. And I’d always known that, once I’d resolved keeping the sleeping space for Hamlet and Bella, and Sienna and Mariposa if they decided to use it, it was me holding onto the memories. The only one potentially being hurt here was me. If I felt I was callously tossing away memories, my cats in memory wouldn’t feel that way, I was the one holding on.

But a revelation I hadn’t even considered in all my pondering and planning—I could be a part of their gatherings there, sitting in my chair now and then, they in their baskets and the cat tree, something I’d never been able to do before. These were the less socialized cats and this might even deepen our bond.

This had been okay all along and had benefits I hadn’t even thought of. I could have done it or could do it at any time. And all the other things I was considering, it was all on me, just to wait until I was sure I was ready.

They moved right in

On Tuesday evening last week I took apart the setup piece by piece, sliding one cabinet out and onto my front porch, then having my dusk visit to the garden with my coffee and telling Mr. Sunshine that it was happening, and thanks for hearing me out. Came back in and removed the particleboard top, slid in the end table then the ficus on top of it, moved the book case downstairs so it was ready, the cabinets out onto the porch, the bookcase into place, arranged the baskets on the top. I settled things in, added the chair and little foot stool, and fed the cats dinner.

I wasn’t sure how Hamlet would feel about this, but he took a look at it and was in his basket having a bath an hour after I’d finished setting it up. The next day he was back to it and has been using it all the time. Mariposa, who always finds the new things, was on the chair, then she was under the chair.

On Thursday Bella went in and looked at it, then settled in with my shoes in one of Saturday’s photos. On Friday she curled up in the extra basket I’d tucked under the chair. On Saturday she napped on the chair. Mariposa moved in where Bella wasn’t. Sienna walked through and sniffed things.

On Sunday, when I came back from my walk and painting on the trail, this is how they were arranged.

One, two, three, Hamlet in the basket, Bella on the chair, Mariposa under the chair.

There couldn’t be any better affirmation that this was the right thing to do, nothing better to help me let go and resolve a little more of my grief than their reaction to this change.

Now…

The room feels very different without that heavy weight and bulk of the file cabinets. I haven’t actually sat there for any length of time, just to test the chair’s placement and think a little more about that big yellow wing chair. I still have a big pang of sadness now and then when I remember all the cats that had gathered there, interacting and doing their thing. Only time will resolve that.

And I’d also known all along that, for the most part, I’m talking to myself while I’m talking to Mr. Sunshine through his flower. Nonetheless, the thought of telling him, and through him all the rest of them, about my feelings in these changes was really the way for me to resolve my fears and move forward.

I’m still wondering, maybe convinced, by the result and the timing, as I mentioned in last Sunday’s post, that Mr. Sunshine intervened on my behalf, whispered in the ears of Sienna who was sleeping next to me the next morning after I’d said that none of them did, and Hamlet when he and Sienna were on my work table a couple of days later when I’d mentioned no one supurrvised me working. And gave Bella and Mariposa just some little direction about asking for attention and getting in my face, which I’ve missed. And of course they’d do these things because this was Mr. Sunshine, and he had always been the adult in the room.

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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