Amos’s Ashes

Our cat who died a couple of weeks ago, Amos, came home last Friday. The vet had sent his remains off to a pet crematory, where several of his forbearers had gone for final disposition, now residing in Barbara’s china cabinet. We picked up Amos at the vet’s, on our way to a friend’s party. Feeling sentimental, Barbara carried the container holding Amos’s earthly remains to the party, to show to friends.

Several hours later, we returned home. The next morning, the paperwork for the crematory and the small envelope containing a clipping of Amos’s fur were on the table next to the front door, but the white plastic container holding his ashes was nowhere to be found. Eventually, after exhausting all other possibilities, we found that Amos had remained behind at the party. He probably enjoyed it. Tomorrow we go back to our friend’s and reclaim Amos.

Tomorrow night, Amos will join his departed comrades, Tucker, Sam and Stella on the top shelf of the china cabinet, among various china, crystal and curio pieces, as well as a large collection of Nun dolls, statues, toys and other objects collected by Barbara over the years. This cabinet is a sort of memory bank for Barbara, holding so many things to keep her good times in mind.

Welcome home, Amos.

Turtles All the Way Down

Yesterday, we took the grandchildren to the Tennessee Aquarium here in Chattanooga. Although they had been several times to this attraction, they were quite excited. Among their favorite creatures were all the various turtle species, large and small. Each display case and tank containing turtles and tortoises drew exuberant comments and cries to one another to look at the latest shelled wonder.

I Go to the Museum

My mother was a dedicated advocate for all manner of art and culture for her children. Devoted to music, she faithfully took us to the Chattanooga Symphony Children’s Concerts, where we fidgeted through various classical works. Sometimes these concerts were enlivened by visual aids, as when a cartoonist improvised sketches for works such as Peter and the Wolf, one of the more child-friendly performances.

My mother took me at around eleven years old to the recently opened Hunter Museum, on the bluff overlooking the Tennessee River. I might not have enjoyed wandering through room after room of mostly 19th century American art, but my mother was crafty.  She chose a week when a traveling exhibit of the inventions of

A Leonardo drawing

Leonardo da Vinci was on display. This was my first introduction to the breadth of Leonardo’s interests, which encompassed not only painting – I had encountered the Mona Lisa in school art class – but sculpture, drawing and inventing a bewildering variety of devices from war machines to mechanical wonders such as a helicopter, and a flying machine with man-powered wings. Most of these inventions were never completed and tested, but the exhibit featured a number of models made to assist the visualization of their complexity.

A model of a helicopter

I loved the displays, and especially the drawings, with Leonardo’s unique mirror writing, which made his left-handedness less of a problem for him.

I have spent adult time in the Hunter as well, once I grew older, but that day will always be special for me, and another reason to value my mother and the time she invested in my education. She sincerely believed that education should not be confined to school and my teachers. I am blessed with her memory.

I must also mention, however, that one memory of that visit to the Hunter is not quite as elevated in tone. At some point, Mother allowed me to explore by myself as she investigated exhibits not to my taste. I had seen one sculpture attracting my eleven-year-old, ah, baser interests. A life-size sculpture of a nude young woman, no doubt with great artistic value, but I was attracted by…other attributes. Heh. I don’t think my mother knew of my little private viewing. I certainly never mentioned it.