One of the hardest parts about yesterday, was the expectation that I would still see Oscar. Years of routine kept making me forget that he’s gone. I mindlessly looked for him when pegging out the washing and even opened our back door when we got home from shopping because I was on autopilot.
When it came to the girls nap time the grief felt like a solid lump in my chest. Knowing my little friend wouldn’t appear to spend the next few hours with me made the tears flow. I felt lonely. More than that; a bit vulnerable too.
Why vulnerable? Because cats are just as good guards as dogs for one. A simple example is that his behaviour would tip me off that someone was outside. A deeper one? He stayed right by my side during all those times of epic grief when I lost my babies to miscarriage. He seemed to sense when I was spiralling because of my PND. He wasn’t afraid to sit with me in my times of hardship. Oscar never shied away from my tears and his gentle head butts and demands for pats pulled me out of some dark places.
The house feels empty without him. Quieter, even. The neighbourhood seems oddly silent too. It’s like everything knows there’s one less loving heartbeat around the place.