There are days when I think to myself "wow, it has been a year ALREADY?". Then there are days when I think "wow, it has ONLY been a year?". I don't understand how it can feel like Roscoe has just died while feeling like he has been gone forever, both at the same time.
My husband says that Roscoe is still here in our home. That he can see Roscoe's tail just behind the corner. That he feels as if Roscoe is taking a nap under bed, like he enjoyed doing so often. These types of thoughts seem to be enough for my husband. That if you can think of Roscoe still wandering our halls at night, it will keep the pain of losing him at bay.
My husband is right to think such things. Roscoe is here with us, just not in the way I want him to be. I want to pick him up and feel his soft fur on my skin. I want to gaze into his loving green eyes. I want to hear the meow that woke me up so many times in the middle of the night. I want Roscoe here with me in the physical sense.
Roscoe was a character. From the first time I met him on Christmas day in 1995 till the end of his life, Roscoe's personality was unchanged. As a kitten he was loving, clumsy, boisterous, funny, talkative, playful, open-hearted, and sweet; exactly how he was later in life.
Unlike his brother, Roscoe wouldn't let you pick him up for a snuggle whenever you wanted. He snuggled only on his terms when HE wanted to snuggle. Of course that made it all the more special when he would curl up on your lap.
Roscoe didn't like to be cold. So in the winter months, when our house would turn into a refrigerator in spite of working radiators, he would bury himself under our down filled blankets. Another way he kept warm was by making himself a bed on the top of my head. I lost count of the number of times that I would wake up in the night to Roscoe snuggling down on my pillow, his front paws dangling down into my face. I always felt so much love from that cat as I fell back to sleep with the warmth of his body on my head.
I refer back to something that I read in a book called "Tuesdays with Morrie" by Mitch Albom. It is a saying that gives me great comfort whenever a loved one is lost, human or furry.
"As long we can love each other, and remember the feeling of love we had, we can die without ever really going away. All the love you created is still there. All the memories are still there. You live on-in the hearts of everyone you have touched and nurtured while you were here."
Roscoe, all the love you created is still here in our home. You have died without ever really going away. And if I close my eyes and try really hard, I too can see your tail just behind the corner.
Sei sempre con me.....