The Wanderer

When my mom passed away I would roam through my sisters house late at night while everyone else slept. Grief kept me up and exhaustion held me down.

I spent endless hours walking in circles. I was lost and kept travelling as my life depended on it. I walked through the kitchen, the living room, back to the rec room, my mom’s bedroom before she passed away and then circled again.

Grief consumed me. The person who raised me, who was with me my entire life, the one soul person I could come to, talk to, whatever it was that I needed, she was there for me. Now I was lost. I lost the person who grounded me.

And so I walked again. I did my route backwards. If the alarm was not send then I would walk through the yard at night and then back inside. Sometimes I was still up and watched the sunrise,but nothing brought me joy. This grief was deep and kept my feet in motion.

And two days ago my cat crossed the rainbow bridge when he died. My vet thought he could save him, but alas that was not in the cards and so here I am again in grief and up at 4 AM wandering my own house. What is it with grief that keeps my feet in moving. It does not help me feel any better. It does not heal my shattered broken heart, but I walk. My kitty would try to get me up at 4 when I did not have to be up till 5, and with him gone, I walk.

I guess that is my bodies way of processing grief, because looking back, everyting someone passed I was walking and walking and more walking. I do not know why I do it, but suspect I do it because it is the only thing I can do. I cannot bring anyone back from the dead. I cannot fix anything in the past, but I can roam and wander through the night.

Today started at 4AM. Today is going to be a very long day. I sit at work typing this because I cannot go walking today. I am at work and I do not think they would like me walking around the place as youth are present, so I type. I am sure later on there will be more wandering, more being lost in this life without my kitty. Did I tell you he was only 6? He had an aggressive tumor that came out of no where and the vet could not believe he was still alive, and then he wasn't.

Today is day three without my sweet boy. His photo is on my home and work desk. He always liked my husband better even though I took care of him. He would purr for my hubby, he would nestle against his hip, he would lay on his lap, he just tolerated me, but when hubby was gone, I was blessed with all the kitty love.

Well, back to work, but I am sure after work, I will wander again. I feel untethered and lost and just sunken. It is hard not to be woken by the cat. It is hard to not see his food bowls out. It is beyond difficult to see his toys and treats and catnip and him not be present to enjoy those things. Perhaps he is wandering around lost as well.

Grief is a fickle pickle. For now I wander around until this new routine becomes normal, until I feel whole again. Right now grief consumes me and I cry, but I know that is the process I have to go through to survive.Right now I imagine my cat chasing endless balls, playing with other cats, and enjoying his afterlife, if he has one,because who really knows.

If you made it this far in your reading, God bless you, you must have lost a cat or other animal, or a loved one and know grief. I am taking this grief as I truly loved and lost. I am lost right now, but know once again, down the road, I will be ok and perhaps one day another furry friend will be mine.