Three years. 1,096 days since I felt his waning heartbeat in my arms. My soul cat.  The months after were dark. Waking up in the morning and remembering was re-traumatizing.  But Mary Oliver writes  “maybe deathisn’t darkness, after all,but so much lightwrapping itself around us–” And that’s what grief is: a love that transcends mortality. …

A couple of weeks ago I woke up in the middle of the night crying out for Linus.  “Linus, come here.  Linus, where are you? Linus.” I sat up, my eyes were wet. I snuggled Lucy and went back to sleep, secretly hoping he’d come back. (Don’t even ask how I thought that would be…

Another ofrenda for Linus. Día de Muertos for pets and Linus’ ofrenda is ready with his favorite snack (tortilla chips), water out of his favorite class, his favorite toys, and lights to guide him home. I haven’t seen him much recently, I hope he comes for a visit. I miss him more than life. “Dios…

Two years.  104 weeks. 731 days.  That Linus has been gone. Each day is further away from the last time I held him in my arms, wrapped in a towel and my pink sweater. I have to scroll back longer to get to pictures of him on my phone or hear his crackly voice in…

Linus was in my dreams last night.  I’m a vivid dreamer, in general, and often remember my dreams or, at the very least, how they felt once I wake up. Last night, in my dream, I was in my bedroom at my parent’s old house but it was still decorated and painted from when I…