Reflections of essence

So, I'm sitting in the house thinking how I am the only human occupying this household while I'm petting my silky black cat, Night-night. In essence, no one to talk to who will comprehend what I'm saying except myself. The animals know I'm not right. They know the house is not right. Odin, my big dog is very attentive. Cassie, my little whippet, is nervous. My cats seem more attentive than usual.

One of my biggest fears, when we first got together was that our relationship wasn't real. You see, I didn't have a very good childhood. Most people grow up really screwed up if they even came close to what I went through. But I didn't. Charley thought that I must have taken mental notes how not to be. I think that is definitely possible, but also think that it is genetic. I was born into this world a smiler. I met him just a short time after I was independent, out on my own, living on my own. Back in the day when we didn't have cell phones to locate each other, Charley and I would be in a grocery store. We would go our separate ways; we were so in sync, that we would rarely duplicate grocery items and also get everything we needed. Then, every now and then, I couldn't find him. I would get this panicky feeling that my new, now wonderful life has all been a dream. Then I'd hear his familiar footsteps and there was his smile and beautiful eyes. My new, now wonderful life was still intact.

He's gone. Now it's real. The memories, even recent memories, are all like some grand illusion some magician has played an evil trick on me. Is this what they call 'going mad?'

I'm staying active. My calendar is full. But the other day, I fell. Really bruised my hand. It swelled so that I can barely make out my knuckles. Yet here I sit to type out my thoughts which are flooding me at this moment. I fell while crossing an intersection while walking my dogs. I think I tripped over my own feet. That doesn't matter because down I went. Hard. The dogs just wondered what I was doing down on the ground all of a sudden. Cars entering the intersection slowed to let me get up and get out of their way. Foolish, that's how I felt. Man! Did my hand hurt. But getting up was lonely. It was only me helping me up. He was not there to lend that strong hand I had come so accustomed to accepting in mine. The older I get, the more precious life is because it is actually too short. No matter how long you live, it's always too short.

You can't call this denial. I saw him. I did CPR. I tried. I mean I really TRIED! I can't get those images out of my head. Then, I held his limp, cooling hand in the hospital after they officially said that he, his essence, his intelligence, his wisdom, his playfulness, his wit, his loving and ever so gentle touch, his sarcasm, his smiles, his strength, his love, his passion, and occasionally (although very rare) his roar—was gone. Gone from this world. Gone from my world. It's like I'm standing in that grocery store, looking for him, only this time, this time I can't hear his footsteps or see his smile coming around the corner. Alone.

I look at sunrises and sunsets. I've started a mental mantra: I'm seeing this for both of us. I'm enjoying our favorite season of fall—for both of us. I go on each day for both of us. My memories keep him with me, his essence.