I'd give anything to hear that mew right now . . . or one of your chirps after hearing your name.
I remember your reaction to my hospital bracelet after I came home from the ER . . . we were both so scared.
I remember relying on you whenever I was upset . . . I would leave the house and lay with you no matter how cold it was on the porch.
I remember being sad to leave you behind when I went to college . . . and being so happy to see you each time I had occasion to return.
I remember your kiss spot.
I remember being worried about the move to Elverson, but you and Emmie adjusted just fine. I bought you both collars and ID to be safe . . . the very collar I wear around my wrist now.
I remember seeing you the summer I came home for treatment . . . you avoided me as if to express the difference.
And I remember our last few visits together. Always eager to see you, to pick you up and squeeze you, to lay with you in the grass, enjoying your company.
I DIDN'T KNOW IT WOULD BE FOR THE LAST TIME.
I always wanted to take you in, baby. To let your last years be comfortable and carefree. To come full circle with you, to show you I would always be there and was always there in heart and spirit.
BUT IT DIDN'T QUITE WORK OUT THAT WAY. YOU LEFT SO SUDDENLY.
I THOUGHT YOU WERE OKAY; THAT YOU WEREN'T SLOWING DOWN.
Maybe I was wrong, sweetie. I had to go by the opinions of those who lived with you.
I JUST WANTED YOU TO BE AS HAPPY AS POSSIBLE.
I HOPE YOU WERE, BABY. I HOPE YOU WERE.
I remember Mom & Ed putting you in the car.
I remember crying all the way home.
I remember seeing your box mixed in with my presents.
I remember being a customer rather than a worker.
My last stroke.
Your last kiss.
And I'll cling to you until you return.