What Loss Looks Like

62º ~ beautiful fall weather abounds, a lack of rain, dry weather predicted throughout the fall & winter, squirrels are squirreling & the light is slantwise

Our Lou-Lou lost her fight with myelofibrosis on Friday.  And so, yes, Dear Reader, we are without a cat in the house for the first time in over seven years.  It’s a quiet, empty feeling.  Most of you may remember that Libby died in June from hydrothropic cardiomyopathy.  Both of these deaths were unpreventable and proved just how little we can control in this world.  While Libby was fairly young at seven and a half when she died, Lou-Lou’s death was even harder to bear as she had just turned three in July.  Her disease, where the immune system turns on the bone marrow and the red blood cells, usually strikes in cats between kittenhood and three years old.

Perhaps I share too much; however, in the telling of the details there is a way through the sorrow (for me).  I know that others prefer to grieve in silence. 

Many thanks to all who sent condolences on Facebook.  As I said with Libby, I am surprised at how much those small words “So sorry for your loss” help ease the grief. 

Finally, here’s a picture of the desk to show what loss looks like for me.

There has been a lot of tossing things on the desk at random: receipts, journals, money, bills, clothing, half-hearted to-do lists, etc.  Yesterday was spent in lethargic repose; today I have a bit more energy to tackle some of this. 

Knowing that the poetry is out there waiting to be read, waiting to be written, is perhaps one of the most helpful things of all.