my room looks bare without timothy the cat. nobody attacks me unexpectedly. nobody is discovered sleeping on the printer. nobody catches moths.
and it is so quiet now. creepy.
timothy the cat has found a great place at my parents’ and is enjoying his situation and station immensely. he even is kind to my mother and purrs to her and is accessible but not obnoxious. my brother adores him and is sure to spoil the kitten in no time. even my father seems younger when timothy is playing with him tentatively.
and, folks, just because my life is collapsing now, and because there is all this..this…no idea what to call it – experience, stuff going on, pain, losses and such – there is no need to label it ‘sad’. hard – yes. difficult, painful, complicated, exhausting – yes to all of that. but not sad. this is a period of change, and my beloved christ walks next to me. sometimes he has your face, whoever you are. thanks.
just like the famous dickensian character of mark tapley (“martin chuzzlewit”) i am learning “to be jolly” in the circumstances that are, well, the way they are. as all the learning processes, this has its breakthroughs and lapses. bear with me, just a little longer, bear with me. it is not easy or simple to let go of nearly forty years of a life.
i was listening to the forest today, in the morning haar – and the forest felt heavy with the breath of spring. the wind is turning. the ices and the snows are breaking. the redstart is singing.
this me is documenting a demise of a whole world. only the joy of documenting the birth of another would be greater.