The peaceful place I visit often

Sir Hamsworth Figglehorn was a blind guinea pig who was rescued from a lab. We cared for him for 5 and half years. I call him “Fingerphone” and my friend Tomoko who took care of him whenever we were out of town and beyond, call him “Figgy” and “Fig”.

Tomoko showed me how Fingerphone can roam around and go back to his home on his own though he’s blind. I left his cage door open and encouraged him to go outside of his cage and he became more and more brave. He was running across our living room and kitchen freely having a great time of his life in his later days.

He also made friends with Tomoko’s two cats and enjoyed the special bond.

It was joy to grow organic veggies for Fingerphone to let him eat from the pots, but homegrown in our New York City apartment was never enough for the big eater.
Every time Tomoko and I see parsley, his favorite food in a market, we miss our Figgy.

The hardest time I had in 2018 was the week in summer when he was dying. I begged for one more year with him, but it was his time.

I found peace when he passed and his burial site became a special place where I feel peaceful.

I brought odd numbers of crystals and stones from home to surround him several times as they get buried in the ground over time.

I asked Tomoko to look for his headstone.

She found a perfect stone at And-Hof Animal sanctuary and brought it for him. The stone has moss and it does look like Fingerphone!
And the moss is alive!

I had brought one cosmos plant without flowers from our 3rd floor terrace where he used to hang out and planted it at his burial sight in his memory, and visited the grave everyday to water the plant and the moss headstone.

As the plant grew, I felt Fingerphone was growing and it eased my pain for the loss.
I was looking forward to the day when the cosmos would bloom.

I also brought some soil from my terrace to cover him, and the soil must had some morning glory seeds. To my surprise I started to see sprouts of morning glory coming out around his headstone.

When I came home from my business trip, the cosmos was gone with no roots.
So I brought my last cosmos I had from my terrace. But that too got rooted out. I learned maybe cosmos is not meant to be here.

My dream to turn this area into a cosmos field failed. But the headstone still stands, and the big trees I hug each time I visit him still stand next to him.
In autumn and winter, I gathered fallen leaves around him.

I believe spirits never die. Fingerphone’s body went back to the Earth, but his spirit is still alive. He still makes me smile...

even on a snow day.