
The soft mewling sound echoed through the phone, a high-pitched, insistent cry that sent a fresh wave of frustration through me. “Isn’t she just the sweetest thing, darling?” my mother-in-law, Eleanor, cooed, her voice bubbling with an almost childlike delight.
I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my voice even. “She sounds… energetic,” I managed, picturing the tiny ball of fur wreaking havoc on Eleanor’s pristine living room.
Eleanor, at 77, had decided to adopt a kitten. A tiny, ginger terror named Clementine. And I, frankly, thought it was a terrible idea.
It wasn’t that I didn’t like cats. I did. But Eleanor was living alone, her health was… delicate, and the thought of her chasing after a hyperactive kitten filled me with dread.
“She’ll keep me active!” Eleanor had declared when she’d announced her new companion. “And I’ve been so lonely since Arthur passed.”
I’d tried to be diplomatic. “That’s wonderful, Eleanor,” I’d said, “but maybe a fish would be a better choice? Something a little less… demanding?”
She’d waved my suggestion away with a dismissive flick of her wrist. “Nonsense! Clementine is perfect. She’s my little companion.”
“Companion” was one word for it. “Chaos” was another.
Kittens were a whirlwind of claws and teeth, demanding constant attention, requiring frequent vet visits, and possessing an uncanny ability to find trouble. I could already envision Eleanor, her frail frame struggling to keep up with the kitten’s boundless energy, the inevitable accidents, the scratched furniture, the sleepless nights.
And then, there was the inevitable. What would happen when Eleanor’s health deteriorated? What would happen when she could no longer care for Clementine?
I knew the answer. I’d be the one left to pick up the pieces, to find a new home for the kitten, to deal with Eleanor’s heartbreak.
My husband, Michael, was no help. “She’s happy,” he’d said, shrugging. “Let her have her fun.”
“Fun?” I’d retorted. “She’s going to break a hip chasing that thing!”
But I was the only one who seemed to see the impending disaster. My friends, my family, even Eleanor’s bridge club, all thought it was a wonderful idea. “It’s keeping her young!” they’d chirp. “It’s giving her a purpose!”
I felt like I was living in a bizarre alternate reality, where everyone had lost their minds.
Weeks turned into months. Clementine grew into a mischievous young cat, a ginger blur that terrorized Eleanor’s houseplants and shredded her curtains. Eleanor, surprisingly, seemed to be thriving. She’d developed a newfound energy, a spring in her step that I hadn’t seen in years.
She’d joined an online cat forum, sharing photos and videos of Clementine’s antics. She’d even started taking her to a local cat café, where she’d made new friends.
One afternoon, I visited Eleanor, expecting to find chaos. Instead, I found her sitting on the sofa, Clementine curled up in her lap, purring contentedly. Eleanor looked radiant, her eyes sparkling with happiness.
“She’s been so good today,” she said, stroking Clementine’s soft fur. “We’ve been having a lovely afternoon.”
I watched them, a strange mix of emotions swirling within me. I’d been so convinced that this was a terrible idea, a recipe for disaster. But I’d been wrong.
Eleanor wasn’t just keeping Clementine; Clementine was keeping Eleanor. She was giving her a reason to get out of bed in the morning, a source of companionship, a spark of joy in her life.
I realized then that my concern, while well-intentioned, had been misplaced. I’d been so focused on the potential problems that I’d overlooked the simple truth: Eleanor was happy. And that, in the end, was all that mattered.
As I left her house, I smiled. Maybe, just maybe, I’d been the one who needed to learn a lesson. Sometimes, the best things in life are the ones we least expect.
Late Titanic star Bill Paxton revealed true feelings about his own fearful experience of submersible dive for movie
In 2003, years after the Titanic film was released to the public, actor Bill Paxton opened up about how he went on a submersible ride to experience everything firsthand as well.
The interview was ahead of the documentary Ghosts of the Abyss release. The documentary showed director James Cameron discussing his inspiration for the film and taking several people, which included Paxton, on unscripted dives to the Titanic’s site.

“Each dive, I had to kind of look myself in the mirror and go ‘OK, are you ready for this?’” Paxton said in the 2003 interview. “It’s one of those things where Jim [Cameron] asked me in passing to go and…the opportunity of a lifetime. I jumped at it,” the actor explained.
“But then you start thinking about physically what’s going to be required of you to get into a three-man, deep-sea Russian submersible for a 13-hour dive,” he shared. “To go down two and a half miles to a place where the sun has never penetrated. And you’re starting to think ‘OK, I’ve got young kids. I need to get them to an age where they can support themselves before I do something this crazy.’”
“Jim is an infectious guy. And also, God, who wouldn’t go on this adventure?”

He even went on to even talk about how comfortable the inside of the submersible he dived in was. He said it was “relatively comfortable,” before noting that “certainly there are things that can go wrong.”
“If they do go wrong, it’s not going to matter anyway. And it’s going to happen so quickly that you’re not even gonna know it happened, probably,” he noted. “These are the thoughts you have going in.”
He even explained how to him, “the price of admission” seemed “kind of low” given the “great experience” you got in return.
“You approach the bow, and then you rise up over it. And you’re looking down on the ship, and you are a ghost of the abyss. And the images stay with you. The images, they really have an effect,” he said before he talked about the “personal story” attached to the sunken ship.
Posted by R.I.P Bill Paxton on Sunday, June 13, 2021
“I think all of us at some time in our dreams or even our waking moments have pictured ourselves: What would it have been like to be on that deck? Knowing that the lifeboats had gone away. What were you gonna do? Contemplating your own fate. It’s this ultimate parable of, how would you measure up?” he questioned, calling the Titanic “a perfect tragedy.”
“You think about the people on the water. You think about the people on the boats looking back and seeing the stern of that ship come up out of the water like a city rising up out of the sea,” the actor said. “You think about the people in the water. I swam in the water out there, which was a very disconcerting experience because you think there’s that much ocean underneath you.”
It was clear that the actor knew of all the risks before going into the experience. As for the five men aboard the submersible that dominated headlines in the last week, the U.S. Coast Guard announced that they discovered “presumed human remains.”
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