It's coming on midnight and here I am again, unable to sleep, wishing all the words filling my mind could be emptied here on the page leaving me void so rest would come and dreams could close in to fill the space. Then again, my dreams of late have been connected to my missing cat, Esme, and during most of them I am sending her pictures of our house and urging her with all my love and energy to return to us. In some of them, I hold her and pat her and tell her she is loved and missed so desperately. I see that she is healthy and happy and fending well for herself. She rubs against me and twines around my legs, thrilled to be near me. I worry for her safety out there against predators that are more knowledgeable, faster, hungrier, with bigger weapons for attacking.
One night last week my dreams showed her with our cat, Lefty, who we put down a month ago. She was rubbing against him, and he looked right at me. Did that mean she was with him? Or did it mean that he was looking out for her as he did when she was young, from wherever he is now? His energy was strong and sure and she trusts him so. With him gone now, I don't know that we will ever see her again. I'm still grieving for our Lefty and not sure whether my grief over Esme is premature. I try so hard to hold on to hope.
People have told me stories of how their cat was gone for days, weeks, months, and showed up one day as if it had never been gone. My daughter's cat, missing recently as well, came back a few weeks later, down a few pounds and with a fever, but happily home.
When is it time to say I've done all that I can? How long can I obsess on every message in a dream? Or stop constantly checking the answering machine hoping that someone found her? When will my eyes stop searching the ground cover as I drive anywhere? How do I move forward and let go at the same time?
It's already a brand new day and I am here, waiting still. If you can feel me, Esme girl, come home.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Menopause sucks! It's kind of like the first 3 months of pregnancy. Not the happy glow of 'oooh I'm bringing a new life into the world', but the nausea, sleeplessness, too warm, hormones raging' part. Hot flashes are not over in a flash. Night sweats that make you change your clothing or discard it all together. I have never been so unhappy in my world, in my life, in myself as I have been these past few months. I see the amazing blessings in my life and they fill me up, and yet, my mood swings are terrible and I have been difficult to live with. I think the worst part of this is that my memory is gone. I can't remember where I put my cell phone, keys, who I wrote that check to, whether or not I fed the cats, that I need to do laundry, pick up a fly bonnet for the horse, or just where I put that list of things to remember to do. This frustrates me daily. Taking something for it is really not an option. I strive daily to find some peace and be grateful and to have a happier outlook. I'm trying to believe it can't last much longer. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.