Intangible

I watched the smallest of my remaining three root through the fibers of a freshly vacuumed rug.
She was intense and hopeful. There are no visible remains on the one week anniversary of
her passing.

My fault and I feel it painfully and deeply in spaces without definition.  I am emptier.
Wearing the immense sadness like a familiar robe is little comfort; The imagined garment hangs
unwashed in the closet-waiting; I will wear it again and again.

I told the vet that I should invent an air freshener and call it "old dog".  I don't want a "new puppy"
aroma therapy. I want to inhale her-just as she was in my arms that final morning.

A companion animal's passing is prefaced by night terrors.  Those exhausting non sleep moments
that tune you into the possibility of silence and when peace does not come, the tears do. And the guilt.

When nothing replaces something, grief visits upon the heart and sometimes it stays.
The layers of sadness permeate the waking hours and lay me down in restless, weary darkness. I am comfortable here where the familiar agony keeps me company. I remember each one. It's like some
malignant reward for having loved them.

Cumulative damage will eventually weaken my intentions and I will die alone; and in that final moment-a memory for those I leave behind.