My mother and I have a small collection of ceramic cats. We inherited them from my Great Aunt Norma, who had an affinity for cats and any cat-themed items. I was immediately reminded of this collection while reading the Hare with Amber Eyes, since Edmund de Waal also inherited a beautiful collection of small ceramic figurines from his uncle.

I am choosing to talk about this gray cat in particular, because it is one of the only things I have with me in my own room to remember her by. Her father survived World War 2 and had terrible PTSD for the rest of his life. However, he never spoke about what happened at war. The only thing he would speak about was the wonderful care packages that my Great Grandma Nuccio would send him. I feel like this is a testament to how much my family values gift giving as an act of love. I’m sure he gave my Aunt Norma a few of these trinkets, which we now honor. 

I have always felt personally attached to this gray cat because it is uncanny how much he looks like my cat, Hare (as in Hare Krishna, not like a rabbit). The ceramic figure is smiling, with one paw gently reaching upward to step. It is carefully hand painted, which I can tell from the unmistakably human brush strokes. The grey back of its’ coat is such a beautiful gradient from the white underbelly, that it must have been sprayed to achieve a seamless look. Purposeful black lines stripe the backside of this figurine, making it even more alike to my own cat, whose tail is striped just like a raccoon. It is small enough to completely conceal in my hand, about the length of two quarters in total. Its’ tail is reaching upward happily with one pronounced black dot painted exactly on the tip of the tail. I cannot tell if this piece was hand sculpted or made from a mold and cast. There is a tiny hole on its’ belly which signifies to me that the piece is hollow. Something that makes me smile is the very small speck of residue from the kiln shelf on the bottom of this cat’s foot. Only potters notice this stuff.  

My mother would always have tea with my Aunt Norma, and kindly passed down the story of some of these figurines. A certain type of tea that she bought would come with a small ceramic animal, like a toy in a cereal box!  After researching, I found that the kitten in particular was released in their series between 1985-1994. This was the exact same time my mother was a student at New Paltz. She told me how she would regularly go visit Aunt Norma across the river, in Redhook. The two of them went through pots and pots of Red Rose Tea® for the chance to acquire more cats.

Another level of the story that makes Aunt Norma’s cat collection so important to me, is the story of Flag. Flag was Aunt Norma’s BOC (big orange cat) circa 2010-2019. He was named flag because his tail always stood straight up with a little bend at the end, like a flag waving in the air. One day my Aunt fell while she was home and it was decided that it was best for her to stay at an assisted living facility until she got better. She always wanted to go home. In the meantime, she asked my mother and I to take care of Flag for a while. We loved him like he was our own. I had Flag in my life during my freshman to junior year of high school. Just about three years. For some reason, she knew that we were the only family members trustworthy enough to protect her best friend. And it broke her heart to be away from him. 

Now, I hope you have come to understand that this cat figurine, and the rest of the cats that reside at my mother’s house, are so much more than a kitschy crazy cat lady’s collection. They are the embodiment of her trust in us, her love for her animals, and her unique ability to collect and appreciate all that life has given her. Stories of objects passed down are always so much more than objects. This story was so bittersweet to write about, because since these stories occurred, both Aunt Norma and Flag have passed on. We remember them every day, and I am so grateful that I knew her for so many years of my life. Luckily, we got to bring Flag back to Aunt Norma while she was still in the assisted living facility. She got to be with him for his last months. That is how it was meant to be, though I am sad that my time with both of them was too short.