Day 3 post-Widgit, and I’m doing a little better. At least the fog has lifted somewhat and I seem to be able to focus a bit more, if even for short periods. The last couple of days have been pretty rough for both of us.
I’ve been out shooting the sunsets, even though they haven’t been that spectacular by Maui standards, or compared to the shots I already have. At least I have my photography to distract me. It’s been maddening not being able to focus on any work, or anything else. Blogging and looking at old photos helps, even though it hurts too. The human psyche is a weird thing.
Moosh has figured it out, I think. She’s been really clingy (even more than usual, if that’s possible) and she wanders around the house meowing like she’s looking for something, which she hasn’t done in years. We originally got her to keep Widgit company after Padi died. At the time, we were both working crazy hours 7 days a week and traveling a lot, so Widgit would get really lonely. Moosh has never known a life without Widgit since she’s been with us. Kathy’s started making noises about getting a “Christmas kitten”. Oh, boy…
I sometimes forget, and I wonder where Widgit is or think I should probably check on her to see how she’s doing, especially through my sleepy brain in the middle of the night. I almost absent-mindedly say my usual, “Where’s my Widgit?” when I come back from being out, something I always did when she didn’t greet me at the door right away, which was pretty much all the time after she got sick. When I’m sitting at my desk, I sometimes turn my head to look at the spot next to the window where she started hanging out after her hospital stay at the beginning of this ordeal, then I remember.
It’s amazing all these little habits you develop. I realized over the weekend that she had been an anchor for me all these years. I haven’t had very many in my life, or really thought I needed them. She’s seen Kathy and me through a lot, and has always been there, unwavering. It’s easy to take someone like that for granted. Object lesson.
Hug your loved ones. Notice them. I sometimes wonder, in hindsight, whether I noticed Widgit enough, or spent enough time with just her. Her greatest joy in life was to play, and I know I didn’t do enough of that with her.
Try to make a point of remembering the little things. It’s the memory of those moments through the years that brings a smile now, even if it’s sometimes through a veil of tears.