In the dream I convinced her she needed her hair trimmed. I’d have done anything to get her to stay just a little while longer. I miss my Mom so much. I could always count on her, talk to her about anything. She’s been gone 23 years next month. It’s never gotten easier. I am still grieving, always will be I guess. This is who I am now apparently. Grief is my jam.

Lately, well meaning friends ask when I will get another cat or dog. I give them a respectable answer – it doesn’t really matter what it is. They need to hear that I’m okay in a way they can understand. I could certainly love another animal. So many are waiting to be adopted, to rescue someone like me…but they won’t be my spirit companion, my Chew. He isn’t replaceable any more than someone else could be my mother. I can’t expect anyone else to understand that. I don’t understand it. But I don’t need to.

My life is full of worries. Silly contrived concerns of all manner following me throughout my days. And nights. Mom knew. Chewy knew. They loved me in spite of myself. Didn’t give a whit what the world brought to the door on any given day, they were just happy to be together. She was my person. I was his person. Everybody needs a person.

My heart is tender. I don’t want to fix it. I’m not much for conversation these days. I got nuthin’. The world has too much talk.

Maybe it’s just February. Maybe it’s my aging body. Maybe it’s the young deer in the woods behind my house, laying in the hay I spread on the back hill. They stare at me through the big picture window as if they get it. Maybe it’s thousands of tender hearts lining the streets as the monks walk for peace. They get it. In the silence the peace is expanding.