Yesterday I was filled with a sudden longing to see my old cat Clio again--or at least to see her turn her head, blink her eyes and give me a dainty meow every time I say her name. Yes. I missed a cat. Even though two cats currently live in this house, which is probably two cats more than anyone should have. My children are embarrassed for me and live in terror that I will acquire more cats, in addition to acquiring more dogs, another bird, a turtle, and perhaps a rabbit that has been trained to use a litter box.
So yeah. I missed my cat. But I think that was just part of the missing I was doing yesterday. I hate how death separates you from the physical presence of someone you love so that you can no longer enjoy how your grandmother smells like Avon products or watch your grandfather take off his golf hat and rub his bald head or hear Marilyn's throaty smoker's voice every time she starts a sentence with, "The thing of it is" or talk to Becky on her morning commute.
Kind of a bad day yesterday, although I did enjoy the part where I sat on my friend Stephanie's couch and discussed manuscripts with her while sipping hot chocolate.
Today will be better.