Carol Kuzdenyi

pianist / piano and voice teacher / choir director

        When Dick Nolan, my late husband, died, in 1994, I discovered first hand that life and love really do continue beyond the grave. I had already believed this, of course, but Dick gave me direct evidence which left me no doubt. Consequently, I no longer have to “believe” that Love goes on. I know for sure that our love is still alive, is growing, and that we are still connected.

        When Daisy, my cat, left planet Earth this past summer, I discovered the same thing is true for animals. Daisy’s end-of-body process was just the beginning. 

The Cat I Love/d

        Daisy was about 16 years old, and had been ailing for quite some time. I let her out after midnight, Sunday night, July 15th, 2012. She had asked to go out, as she often did late at night, but she didn’t come home Monday morning. I went around the neighborhood trying to find her, but I couldn’t locate her anywhere. I began to get symbolic messages that she was on the Other Side.

        I know animals go away to die, so I thought I would never see Daisy again. It had been so hard to watch her lose her vitality. She had lost her voice, had stopped purring a few days before that, and had been looking quite haggard for a long time. She was just skin and bones and fur. As she walked shakily and ever so slowly across the street that Sunday night, I knew she was on her last legs . . . and very, very tired.

        I felt sadder than I did when my husband died. I was happy for him, that he wasn’t suffering anymore. I knew Daisy would like me to celebrate for her, but I just wasn’t there yet.

        Tuesday morning a neighbor came to tell me that someone who lived around the corner had found Daisy the night before, just before she died. I immediately went to that person’s house, but no one was home. I left a note on the door. Finally, late that afternoon, a woman phoned to tell me she had called Animal Control that morning, and they had come to collect Daisy. I called Animal Control right away but they were closed. I left a message. At least now I knew for sure that Daisy was gone.

        Wednesday morning I renewed my decision to let go of the possibility of ever seeing Daisy again. I figured she might be cremated by now, and the ashes disposed of. A big part of my spiritual work has been to let go of trying to control things. Soon afterwards, however, Animal Control called me back. The officer said she still had Daisy in the truck from the day before; she hadn’t yet put her in the fridge. I was beside myself with joy and gratitude. 

        Animal Control delivered Daisy to me that afternoon, and I buried her in the little space between the garages where we used to play together. I had let go of ever seeing Daisy again, and she came back to me! It was so nice to be able to hold her again and say goodbye.

        That night Daisy and Dick came to me in my meditation. As a prelude, let me note that when I got her back from Animal Control, Daisy’s eyes were open. I tried to close the lids, but they wouldn’t budge. I looked carefully into her eyes. There was no light in them. It hit me like a lightning bolt: There was no one home in that little body.

        My evening Meditation:

All during the day today I became more and more aware of how connected I had been with Daisy as a companion. She had been such a big part of every little thing I did in the house, and I hadn’t realized it.

If you want to hang around, Daisy, that would be great. If you want not to, I understand. Thank you for being who you were with me. You taught me a LOT. I hope I keep reinforcing the lessons.

It’s okay, Carol. I’m OK, You’re OK! :)

:) [I had just finished reading a great book called I’m OK, You’re OK.]

Yes, there was no one home in the body. But you buried it so lovingly. That love connected us. That Love will always connect us. We will never be separated. Even if I reincarnate, my Essence will be One with Yours. And we will see each other again.

You seem like a very solid, powerful, male presence.

Fancy that.

It’s a little strange relating to it.

Just be open. I’m not letting any grass grow under my feet.

This is making me feel happy.

Good! It’s the purpose of the exercise.

Hi, Dick.

Hi, Carol. You did a loving thing today.

It was helpful to me.

And to Daisy and to all of us. Love is never lost. You have a lot of support from this side of the veil. And yes, Daisy is happy! Freedom to a cat is everything. She’s happy to be out of that decrepit body. She enjoyed your kisses today, though.

Thanks for your love and support.

I couldn’t do anything else! Enjoy all your stuff.

Thank you both. I didn’t expect to feel this nice tonight.

:) :) ! !

. . . . .

          Here’s one more insight from Daisy. This is from my July 19th meditation— the day after I buried her:

Today when I got sad I remembered that Daisy’s body is blessing the earth. I sense Daisy again—HUGE, but like herself, just sitting quietly, giving me peace. Thank you, my Sweetie.

You’re welcome, Carol. Just keep remembering that I am Whole and Alive and happy. You are right—my body is blessing the earth because of all the love that we shared that resides in my physical remains. So Your Love and You are blessing the earth as much as I am.

I didn’t think of that. Thank you. That’s lovely.

Daisy and I, five weeks before she sloughed off her mortal coil and shuffled off to heaven.

Photo by Tony Keppelman