In my car, where memories of happier times float freely through my mind like a slideshow and music paints with sound the pain I feel deep in my soul, I get a pit in my stomach or a tightness in my chest. My heart hurts, everything seems bigger than I am, and the unknown future is just so scary. It holds all kinds of possibilities and greatness too, but it's scary because it's new, blank, unknown, uncharted, and at times it really does feel bleak.
I can always look for the silver linings...the positives...all of that still exists for me. I feel its reality strongly and I'm grateful for that... But I also feel alive with pain. The pain beats in my heart, it travels my limbs... It is the heaviness in my abdomen, the throbbing in my head...
And where will I go now...
When my world is cold and broken...
Those lines in the last song of my new favorite album just drum into me. In the car. In the Grief Zone. And they're not sung angrily or depressingly... They are just soft and searching. And that's how I feel. Soft and vulnerable and searching.
With a bit of fear.
So I drove to my vet clinic before heading home, to pick up fluid bags and needles for my high maintenance kitties I love so much...crying softly...empty and worrying about too many unknowns in this complex thing we call life.
And when I composed myself and went inside the vet clinic, they told me I owed nothing, because I had a $300 credit on my account. I told them there must be a mistake. They read me a computer note that stated someone had put $300 towards Juice and Tumbler's care and wanted to remain anonymous. My mouth hung open. I almost cried.
The Universe has my back at the lowest moments. I am so grateful to the kindness that is bestowed upon me. When you put good into the world, it really does come back. Rays of light shine through to illuminate hope when fear seems so overpowering. I cannot personally thank the kind person who helped me today, but I can definitely worry about one less thing.
My cats are loved. And so is the Cat Widow.