What to do on the first anniversary of a cat's death? A record of an owner who cherished their beloved cat with bone ashes rings and letters

May 16th of this year was a special day for me. It marked the first anniversary of the passing of my beloved cat, Gigi. What could I do to honor her memory...? After much contemplation, I settled on a way to mark this first anniversary that felt true to who we are, without overdoing it.

Maintenance for my beloved cat’s memorial ring

Since Gigi passed away, the thing that has supported my heart most is a custom-made memorial ring I ordered from a jewelry shop, which contains her ashes.

The hardest part about losing a beloved cat is the reality that you can no longer build new memories together. Facing that truth was painful, and while I had the ring made out of a desire to "always be by her side," wearing it in my daily life ended up supporting me through many moments I hadn't expected.

This ring, which has been out with me and seen so many different sights, is, to me, Gigi herself. That is why, as a way of saying "thank you for staying by my side this past year," I decided to have it cared for on this milestone day of her first anniversary.

Related Articles

Ordering a custom “memorial ring” for my beloved cat… Sharing the cost, the details, and my feelings after it was completed.

Even if you can't see them, your beloved cat is always by your side... After pet loss, we sometimes tell ourselves this to protect our hearts. As one way to ease the pain felt during such times, I recommend creating memorial goods. In this article, I will share...

The jewelry shop where I ordered the ring provides free aftercare. The staff member carefully checked the condition of the stone and explained the necessary care.

I wore the ring around the clock, so it had become quite dull... but the staff member gave me such warm words, saying things like, "It's still in beautiful condition," and "I can tell you've kept it with you constantly."

When you receive kindness like that, you never feel the need to neglect care out of shame for "showing off a ring that's clearly well-loved."

Fortunately, there were no major scratches, so the aftercare only took about an hour. I had been a little worried that I might have to leave the ring with them for several days, so I was happy to get it back immediately.

Once cleaned, the ring regained its luster and began to sparkle. The image of Gigi looking happy and thinking, "I'm all pretty now!" popped into my head, which warmed my heart.

Eating Gigi's favorite "strawberries" in front of her urn

Gigi was a cat who loved strawberries. For us, strawberries are a special fruit. It’s because we have a memory of my husband buying some a few days before she passed, and the three of us eating them together.

She couldn't eat much because her pleural effusion made it difficult to breathe, but she still savored the strawberry while gently licking my palm. There was a time when I couldn't even look at strawberries in the supermarket because recalling that scene was too painful.

Even on her first anniversary, picking up strawberries brought me to the verge of tears. But I encouraged myself, thinking that it was, after all, her first anniversary.

I had planned to eat the strawberries with my husband at dinner while talking about memories of Gigi. However, my husband felt unwell that day... He was feeling too poorly to talk about her, so I changed my plans and ate the strawberries by myself in front of Gigi's urn.

It wasn't how I had envisioned the day, but the time spent quietly eating strawberries with Gigi while talking to her urn wasn't bad at all.

While you often want to share fond memories with family on a pet's death anniversary, I felt that sitting down one-on-one and really focusing on her was also a good thing.

The sweet and tangy strawberries Gigi loved so much—I hope the scent reached her in heaven.

A letter to my late cat, written through tears

There was one more thing I absolutely wanted to do for the first anniversary: write a letter to Gigi. It is difficult to express one's feelings for a cat who is no longer here. Even when talking about memories with family, if the "temperature" of the grief is different, it makes me hesitant to speak about the deepest parts of my heart.

However, those bottled-up feelings are the most important ones. Even if it's hard to share them with someone else, you cannot, and should not, pretend they don't exist.

How do I perceive my cat's death now, and what am I feeling? Wondering this, I wanted to be honest with myself, so I wrote a letter addressed to Gigi in heaven.

While writing, my feelings for Gigi overflowed, and I couldn't stop the tears. But as I kept writing, my heart felt a little lighter. I realized that being honest with your true feelings is important for protecting your own heart.

I placed the finished letter on Gigi's altar. I plan to write one letter every year from now on. I hope that when I look back on them someday, I'll be able to smile gently and think, "I was having those kinds of feelings back then."

To be honest, the wound from losing Gigi is far from healed. But I feel that the way I accept the painful reality of her death has changed bit by bit.

At first, I was filled only with thoughts like, "I wanted you to live longer" and "I wanted you to be by my side forever." I couldn't bear that such a beloved being was gone, and I couldn't forgive my own helplessness for not being able to save her.

But one day, it occurred to me: isn't it cruel to tell Gigi, who fought to live even after surgery and while struggling with pleural effusion, that I "wanted her to live longer"?

She used up all her life force before going to heaven. Because her end was one I could see that way, I wanted to express "Thank you for doing your best until the very end" rather than saying "I wanted more."

After all, if I were to pass away after fighting as hard as I could, and my family told me "I wanted you to live longer," I would surely want to reply, "I did the best I could, you know! (laughs)." Instead of clinging to a "more" that could not be, I began to want to accept Gigi's hard work and say, "Thank you for living out your full life."

I didn't have a storybook moment on the first anniversary where I bumped into Gigi reincarnated, but if I keep holding her in my heart, I am certain I will meet her again someday. With that hope as my support, I want to continue living alongside Gigi, who is now in her urn, from here on out.

View all articles by this author＞＞

Related Articles

The night I lost my beloved cat's memorial ring—the "support for living" I realized after a desperate search

A keepsake of a late, beloved cat can be a great emotional support for the owner left behind. Early this year, I lost the ring containing my cat's ashes and panicked! I felt the "weight of the keepsake" once again...