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I Remember: The Unstable Ladder
Memories of my Gen X childhood teenage years and early twenties often return in shattered glass — an ongoing ‘I Remember’ series
It was all my cat’s fault. But first, I’ll give you some backstory.
In 1990, my boyfriend and I lived with a roommate in the front apartment of a two-story building. All five windows of the first-story living room faced the street, and the second story had a large, concrete ledge below the upstairs bedroom windows. It was summertime, and the upstairs windows were open. On the east side of the building was a walkway to our front door, and on the west was the driveway to the three garages in the back.
My cat’s name was J.J. She was a lazy teenage cat, and preferred lounging on our bed — specifically on my boyfriend’s pillow (he was allergic to her, and I’m pretty sure she knew it, but he understood and agreed that she was part of the relationship package).
However, on this Saturday, she must have decided to be less lazy. It was an extra-warm day, so I was wearing just my workout shorts and sports bra, and folding laundry in the bedroom when I noticed her little dent in the pillow — but no J.J.
I called out to her but didn’t hear any sound of padding paws or mews in response. I…
