As I process the loss of our family cat, I am drawn to the indescribable absence. The house feels so quiet and different, even though it was never loud prior to her departure. I’m not even sure how to put “different” into words. It’s just different. Something is gone.

As I sat working during the week, my gaze repeatedly moved to the couch, something I must have done thousands and thousands of times over the years. Whiskers was not perched on the top, basking in the sun. The couch looked empty. It didn’t look empty. It was empty. Right there in the upper far left corner, the indentation is even still there… 

Is a presence physical? Is it visual? Is it energetic? Is it historical? Is it circumstantial? What is it? Or, is it all of the above and more than I’ve even considered yet?

I sort of hate the cliche term “the end of a chapter” but it doesn’t make it any less true. Loss, of any kind, represents the end of a chapter and all of the elements within that chapter move into our memory bank.

Personally, I have traveled back and forth through our family history with Whiskers over the last few days, recalling funny and not so funny memories. 
Reminiscence, while sometimes painful, can also connect us to meaning. If grief is the price for great love and/or great meaning then all of these stages are critical. I say great meaning, purposely, because grief is not only for the loss of positive connections. It represents any connection of significance, positive or otherwise. 

I admit that I went out and bought new pillows for the couch, as an attempt to cover up the physical absence. They’re very pretty AND I also know that they’re not a means to fill the absent space. Nothing fills the absence. That’s permanent.

Hopefully, if we allow ourselves to grieve fully, we become more able to accept a loss and be open to other experiences. Is there anything you need or want to grieve more fully than you have allowed yourself to do, thus far?