Last night, I rolled over in bed and reflexively pulled the covers. For the last 6 years, there was a little cat laying on the covers impacting this movement.
Little moments like that will come fast and furious over the next few months as we grieve, remember, and celebrate.
The hole will never be filled. Small moments that mean the world to me, and nothing to you (like leaving my shirt in the floor in the closet, filling the water in the bathroom), will weight heavy on me for a long time.
I used to compare all cats to Gatsby, the old family cat. Now, I'll add Romeo to the list.