Dear Kudzu:

Today didn't go very well, and I should like to tell you about it. A lot of folks have been asking questions about why I haven't moved into my house yet. After all, it has been six months. And very few of them seem to understand that it's more complicated than just the accumulation of days.

They don't seem to understand what it will be like to live there and know that you will never be looking out the dining room window when I get home. You will never look out the french doors onto the backporch and chitter at the squirrels leaping through the trees. You will never be curled up on the other end of the newly covered couch (yes, Mommy finally got rid of the brown strips) while I watch TV and you stretch and roll and make little sleepy kitty noises. And even though I know all these nevers, there is still the ghost of you haunting my mind and casting a shadowy ephemeral version of you in all those places and making my heart hurt so bad it feels like it will never stop.

So you can imagine how I felt today when some well-meaning people were giving me grief over not relocating yet. And you can imagine that fine line, that sharpest point that pierced me and caused me to start crying -right there! - and make everyone uncomfortable with my tears. You can imagine how mortifying it was to struggle for composure and for it to continually slip through my tear-soddened fingers. And then to have to excuse myself and lock myself in the bathroom for a few moments and not only feel the pain but the embarrassing conjecture of what was being said in my absence. Returning to my place, I valiantly put on the face of normalcy but as soon as I was able, I was the first one to escape. And even when one of the guilty parties tracked me down and apologized, I could feel the tears rising again and sought shelter after a mumbled, "It'sfineI'mjusthavingahardtime."

And you're not here to make it better. There is no silky black fur or soft gray underbelly to comfort me. There are no intense green eyes. No small fuzzy paws. You are gone. And I know it. I know, but some days, the knowing just breaks me.

Today was one of those days. And I know you can't be here to make it better. But I just wanted you to know. I wanted you to know that I miss you and I still love you with all of my heart. And I hope that right now, you're curled up in the shape of a "C", breathing softly and dreaming of me.

Love,
Your Mom