Two sisters, soon to be known as Ham an Beans, came into my life at the tender and mischievous age of 3 months, largely at the urgence of my mother. Not being a "cat person" I was hesitant, but Mom didn't want me to be alone and neither did I, so off to the local no-kill shelter I went. It took the kitties and me a long time to warm up to each other--years, in fact, were spent in a love-hate relationship. But I had to admit it was hard to ignore how cute they could be, even amidst intollerable behavior. As the years progressed we became a package deal; Ham, Beans and me. They became my kids without me intending that or even realizing when it happened. I became attached to them without ever wanting to, because I knew the day would come to say good-bye. When Beanie died two years ago, Ham helped ease my sorrow simply by being here. We all missed her sister; we all grieved her passing, each in our own way. My husband quietly thought of her sweet bunny-rabbit face, I openly cried tears, and Ham called out mournfully to her absent sister frequently. But even in our sorrow I felt gratitude to God and Beanie for having her with us for 18 years. What an incredible gift! The morning of October 4, 1999, Ham went to be with her sister. On October 10 we held a memorial service to ceremoniously say farewell to Ham. Admittedly my favorite child, I find it so hard to let her go, but life is full of hardship and doing what we must. Miraculously, Ham stayed with me for 20 years, happy being the spoiled brat that I made her. In a way unnoticed by the outside world, my life is now forever changed. The constants of 20 years are gone now, but they leave in their place the lessons and love of a lifetime. The souls of Ham and Beans exist forever now in a place of beauty, joy and love. How can I be sorry about that?