Despite seemingly unaffected by the recent loss of Cinders, I am still prone to wet eyes and flowing tears that come with barely any warning.
I took a shower, walked into the wardrobe, and saw her bed in the corner of the room. My nose turned sour, and I felt my heart wrench. As I dried myself up and went to the living room, I sat down and my tears starting to flow freely.
I miss that tinkling sound that she makes as she half-skips all over the place.
I suddenly miss the purring symphony that she makes when you sit her on your lap and stroke her belly.
I miss how she’d always come to the door to greet you when you get home.
I miss everything about her. From the tips of her ears to her imperfect bent tail.
I didn’t know it would be so hard. But I knew it would come eventually. This was just… premature.
I had dreams of her and Joshua being best playmates. And they were. For a short while.
I dreamt of her growing old as Joshua was growing up, and how they’d become best friends and sleep together at night.
I dreamt of a lot of things. Plans that included her.
I remember how worried we were when we went to KL, even though we had a very reliable contact for a catsitter and she won our trust as she tried to make friends with our atas kitty. We requested for her to update us daily on Cinders’ situation. Because, really, we were worried.
When we came home, we were greeted by her at the door, as usual. It was lovely to see her again, and our little family of four united once again.
Sometimes, I think we should have gotten a dog so that we can bring her out along with us and not be stared at by curious strangers.
Cinders, Mommy misses you. Your chicken breath when you lick my face. How easily you purr. Your soft little mews when you come and ask for food. And your hyperactive running up and down the flat as you chase some invisible monster.
We didn’t have that long a relationship, but you will have a special place in my heart. Forever.
You are dearly missed. By us, and by everyone who has ever met your sweet little face.
I love you. Papa loves you even more. And even though Joshua may not remember much about you, I will show him the pictures where both of you had fun together and he will feel a heartwarming sensation that he wouldn’t know comes from where.
Sleep tight, baby. Mommy will see you again someday.
One last time, to see you in motion.