The Places You Have Come To Fear the Most

A couple of months ago, I wrote about my cat, Mr. Buckley.

Tonight, I write to tell you and to grieve the fact he is no longer here.

As soon as I left the vet clinic, empty carrier in hand, the skies opened up and poured rain the whole way home.

It felt a bit cleansing to my grieving process – the sky and I sharing our grief together: tears intermixed with the wrath of the rainfall.

I trudged up the 39 steps to my apartment and was greeted with more silence than I’ve heard in nine years. Buckley always greeted me when I came home – he even knew what my car sounded like and would wait for me in the window to finally come inside and greet him.

The hollowness I feel is astounding and I know it won’t feel this exact way forever.

And during the process of letting him go tonight, I was struck with new feelings – of the steadfastness of love.

There was a cheesy pop song that come out in 2008 called “The Man That Can’t Be Moved” and I woke up this morning singing it after 10 years of not hearing it at all. For me, the unwavering love of the story in the song is what resonates this evening.

My unwavering love for Buckley even though he is now gone – I may have rescued him out of the snow, but he rescued me and taught me more patience and so much about taking care of and loving another living being.

So, I woke up this morning singing “Going back to the corner, where I first saw you…” and it reminded me that is it a gift to even get the opportunity to love at all and I don’t ever want to take that for granted.

Whether they be a person or a furry companion that’s been by your side for years, tell the people in your life you love them as often as you can.

Hug your animals close and don’t ever settle for mediocre love that isn’t returned or leaves you feeling like an option. That’s my (cliche) advice tonight.

Mr. Buckley was fearless and taught me over the years to not live in fear and always go after what I want.

We can learn a lot from cats and I’m grateful he allowed me to pick him up that snowy, October day. Sometimes, the Universe gives us exactly what we need when we need it.

I haven’t slept in 5 days, so I’m going to take my worn self to bed and stop trying to process all my grief in one night.

Until Then.