A quiet whisper

I wound up spending a good deal of time during these last 48 hours grappling with this thing called grief. Since my workplace is at home alone, I have more than my share of time to reflect.

Yesterday, I learned of the death of Pall, my cello teacher, who, over the course of 5 plus years, managed to remain calm and patient and supportive enough to keep me, an adult learner, in the game. To this day, his words of encouragement replay in my mind and continue to inspire me to reach higher and tackle challenges head on. I will think of his guidance with every note I play.

This morning, we sent Miss Mittens, our cat of 18 years off to heaven after a very sudden and very rapid downward spiral in her health over the holiday weekend. I only now realize the integral role she played in my life over the last 18 years. Years during which my children went from being small giggling boys finishing kindergarten, to grown men, strong and kind and handsome - and sporting new beards. I only now realize that I took her presence for granted, often striding past her with barely a glance, and how she in turn would rectify that by making sure she caught by attention in some way. She was my constant companion, my housemate, my office mate, she endured my practice sessions. She would look me straight in the eye, and if she could speak, she probably would have given me loads of advice on how to live my life. She was bold, she was opinionated, she was fearless. She had nine lives and she used every last one of them with gusto.

I look up expectantly, hoping to see her enter the room. I miss the beautiful steel gray and white cat who peppered my day with her wisdom and sassiness. Something vital has been removed, as though all the periods and commas and quotes and question marks have been taken away from the printed page and words are now one long stream of gibberish.

I know that over time, the sharp, jagged edges of grief will soften, but not until they have left their mark on my life's landscape. We anticipate closure, but grief never completely leaves us because loss is forever. Loss doesn't end. It soon becomes a subject spoken of in quiet whispers in our loud and clamoring world.