16 Aug 2008
The old place..
My father’s house. Silver Spring Drive, Bedford, NH 03110. He is on vacation for a week, from Friday til Friday. He asked me to check in on the house everyday while he is gone, feed and water both the cat and dog. Not a problem!
It always hits me like a ton of bricks when I am there. I never know what section of the house, what step on the stairs. What corner I will be walking around when I think I see my boy King. I do not think it has gotten easier over the years. Not at all easier. Every time I am over there it happens at some point. I either just break down crying, or flop down on the stairs, or lean against a wall and just sigh a long sigh.
What else can I do? I still continue to think of him daily. What he meant to me, what he did for me, how he was always there for me. What he stopped me from doing….
Some days they are happy thoughts, most they are sad. What happened to him? Was he hit, stolen, killed by another animal? Sometimes I like to wish he is still alive, with another family bringing them joy. But with every step I take on my father’s property, every single step with every single breath what I wish for the most is for him to pop around a corner and meow up at me like he did.
Wishing it was all but a bad dream.