By the time I reach for my morning tea, it is cold. What is meant to comfort me is a tepid cup that tastes like a sigh. It was not forgotten, I have other things to do first.
This morning’s cup reminded me of Meow. Reading about the cat food he was eating that had been recalled due to too much vitamin D broke my heart. He was not just a cat, he was a timeline. He came into my life right around the same time Will did. When Meow died, I felt like I was losing Will all over again.
My body remembered even when my calendar did not.
Meow was the first cat that I kept long enough to leave me. I usually move a few years after adopting a cat, so they need to be rehomed. It is a recurring thought now: I have lived a life where I have been left everything – have I learned to leave before anything can abandon me?
I wake up at 2-3 am every single day, like my nervous system is putting on her armour to shield me from the memories of the haunting hours. To protect me from what I am not allowed to feel during the day.
Keeping a vigil.
