Mitsy, the Cat Who Carried My Mother’s Love

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Some pictures capture more than a moment — they hold an entire story. This one is of Mitsy, who was 12 at the time and is now 17. In the photo, she’s curled up beside my mom, their bond shining through in quiet tenderness.

It was taken during one of the hardest chapters of our lives. My dad had just passed away, and my mom was living with dementia. By then, she no longer knew who I was. But she knew Mitsy. Her eyes softened every time Mitsy climbed into her lap, her smile breaking through the fog of memory loss.

When I asked for that picture, my mom — being my mom — smiled, just as she always did. It became my favorite photo of her, the one I chose to hold onto as my last. Not because there weren’t other visits, but because this image captured love in its purest, simplest form.

Shortly after, my mom moved into a care home. I visited often, but I never took another picture. That one photo was enough. It told the story of resilience, comfort, and a bond that words couldn’t fully capture.

Mitsy has never loved anyone quite the same way since, but she’s still with us, still purring, still carrying that piece of my mom’s love. She was my mom’s best friend — and now she’s mine, a living reminder that love never really leaves, it just changes form.