The View from Here

I didn’t understand what was wrong with me yesterday- I love my job, but I had to force myself to go in to work. A fog had settled over me, and I started feeling like I was going to have a panic attack if I didn’t get to the safety of home. It was difficult to concentrate, and I felt tears close to the surface, with flu-like symptoms. At lunchtime I went straight home and sat in the quiet with the dogs until I had to go back to teach again. What in the world is wrong with me?

After talking through things with my husband, it became clear; I am grieving the loss of our cat this past Wednesday. As the beauty of spring unfolds, I realized that this will be the first spring in the fourteen years that Dan and I have been together and that we have been in this house that Kasey won’t be here, won’t be a part of our daily lives. There’s a big hole, and it won’t easily be filled. I’m sure it sounds silly to someone who is not an animal lover, but the feelings- and the pain- are very real. 

I have experienced great loss before,  including the most painful of all in the death of my mother. This is not that, of course, but the love I had for Kasey was was deep. I called her my ‘soul cat’, as we seemed to be able to read each other’s minds.  Connections with animals can be powerful and at times life-altering, and perhaps I hadn’t realized just how much I depended upon Kasey’s spirit and her contributions to what home means to me. 

Possibilities!

There are other things looming on the horizon that are adding to my melancholy, but it at least feels good to understand why I’m feeling the way I am, and to know that time will heal, as it always does. I need to honor the process and honor my feelings. For now, I will look around at the lush beauty that is coming to life around me and think of the many happy memories I have…and the wonderful new ones I plan to make in this time of renewal.