And then there are days like this…

Oh, my sweet boy. Today was one of “those days.” A dark day. I was caught unawares by my intense grief – by how very much I miss you every day. But on some days, more than others, I’m acutely aware of it.

Even now, over a year and a half after you left me, I was startled by the intensity of the loss of your physical presence. In the car, running errands, a song came on – a happy song, one I really love. But when I opened my mouth to sing along, my breath caught in my throat, as it so often has. With an involuntary spasm deep in my belly, I was struck by the feeling that something’s missing. Ah. Right. It’s you. You’re no longer here. Never mind that I was in the car, and you rarely were there with me, at least not of your own choosing. No matter where I was, I always knew I had you to come home to.

But you’re not at home now – not at my home, here on this crazy planet. You’re off on another adventure, I hope, but away from me. And with you went part of me, or maybe many parts of me. One part was my voice, apparently. And my laughter. I haven’t had a full, unadulterated belly laugh in over a year and a half. Each time one bubbles to the surface, just like the urge to sing, it’s stifled in my throat. Each time, I feel I can’t breathe, just for a moment, and for the briefest of instants, I wonder why, and then it hits me all over again. Because you’re not here. And it feels wrong that I am. This isn’t guilt talking, either. Although, oh boy, is there guilt. Did I do enough for you? Did I make the right choices for you? If I had made different choices, would you still be here? If you were still here, would I have derailed your master plan?

Anyway, I just needed to say that I know everyone will say that it’s not what you would want, for me to not be able to fully express myself in song or in laughter. But they don’t get a say. Even I don’t get a say in this. It just is. I just miss you. And always will. And maybe someday, I’ll laugh and sing again, joyfully, without reservation. I’d like that to be with you. Love to you, wherever you are. I hope you’re passing the string test there! And mostly, I hope that you feel my love making its way through the galaxies or the dimensions, or whatever separates us, and that you know that whatever happens, you brought me immeasurable joy and that you always have a piece of my heart.

May the longtime sun shine upon you… kisses on that sweet kitty-belly from here on the planet earth.