Losing a pet is losing a family member. It’s not easier. It’s just as significant. And the feelings don’t go away any faster.

Today I am remembering Seuss.

Seuss loved to cuddle with me on my pillow (March 5, 2011).

Seuss is my first cat. He was only a few months old when I adopted him from the Hawaiian Humane Society back in 2006. He was also quite the charmer as a kitten, always seeking attention from the humans around him.

Throughout the years, Seuss has grown to be the visible soul of our home, always perched as high up as he could reach — on shelves, atop the fridge; wherever he could get to, he would be there.

It was four years ago today that he passed. But even now, I imagine him hanging out on top of the fridge, watching everyone come and go throughout the day, and then making his way onto the couch for the rest of the night, stargazing through the picture windows.


Sumi was an extraordinary cat. She taught me how to play fetch. She was Seuss’s best friend and mommy to Peaches. She was very affectionate towards me. And she could purr her way into everyone’s heart.

It has been one year, and I still miss her.

Sumi Kisses
Sumi kisses (May 30, 2020).

The following is my remembrance from last year on the day that Sumi passed away.

Every morning at 4 am, Sumi hops onto the bed, uses my legs as a catwalk, and settles herself on my chest, purring (and sometimes drooling) over my face. She meows when she sees movement. “It’s time to eat,” she declares. She has done this for years.

But not today.

This morning, Sumi passed away. She was 13.

From that first day I held her in my arms to her last days at home, she was my shadow. Sumi knew when I was sad or sick and looked after me. She tucked me in bed every night. She knows how to get attention from the humans around her. She reminded me that every day is a special day. I didn’t rescue her from that garage in Pearl City over 12 years ago; she rescued me.

I will miss her tremendously. She has left her paw prints on my heart.

Take a memo.

A couple of weeks ago, I received an email informing me that from now on, we are to stop using the word memo and use memorandum instead.

I kid you not.

So, of course, I immediately wrote back asking for further clarification: to pluralize, should we use memoranda or memorandums?

On average days, I go through about 50 to 100 emails in my inbox. On busy days like that particular one, I sometimes surpass 200. I don’t linger too long on any particular email if I don’t have to, but this one — I don’t know — I couldn’t let go of.

It kept bugging me (in the already crowded space between my ears) that someone thought the word memorandum sounded more sophisticated, more official than simple “memo.” On that sleepless night, I did some research.

“Used originally as mere Latin, and usually abbreviated mem., to introduce a note of a thing to be done” [Century Dictionary]; by 1540s it came to mean the note itself. The Latin plural is memoranda

Online Etymology Dictionary (Douglas Harper)

Not surprisingly, memorandum was shortened to memo for ease of use. What I didn’t know was that it was shortened in the late 19th century. We’re talking over 130 years of common usage!

So we go back to using the word memorandum in all future memoranda until such time we are brought back into the 21st century with the rest of the world which, I hate to say, doesn’t even use the term memo anymore.

Ironically, Merriam-Webster uses “informal” as part of its definition of memorandum.