My mother died from cancer just weeks before Christmas, leaving a silence that felt heavier than words. In that stillness, her black cat, Cole, became my comfort. He had stayed with her through every treatment, pressed close as if protecting her. After she passed, he followed me everywhere, sharing grief without sound. The house remained frozen in unfinished holiday plans, and Cole felt like the last living piece of her presence.
One morning, he was gone. The couch was empty, the back door ajar. Panic set in as I searched the neighborhood, called his name, posted notices, and waited outside each night. When Christmas Eve arrived, hope finally collapsed. Sitting alone on the kitchen floor, I felt certain I had lost my mother all over again by losing him.
Then I heard a faint noise at the door. Cole stood there—thin and tired but alive. Relief flooded me before confusion took over. In his mouth, he carried my mother’s favorite glass ornament, the one she always placed at the center of the tree.
For Complete Cooking STEPS Please Head On Over To Next Page Or Open button (>) and don’t forget to SHARE with your Facebook friends.
