Sox Cogswell

I know that somewhere the winter sun is still shining on your face, your eyes wide with curiosity at your new existence. You tricked the cruelties of life and you’re still chirping with your birds and greeting old friends with your standard greeting and head bump. I bet you are hiding behind that curtain, pretending to be invisible. As with the illusion of your paw under the rug, it’s not really gone, but you just can’t see it. For now you are under the rug, behind the curtain, on the other side of the shower door. I can’t touch you or see you but you’re still there. I know you’ll return to us one day because you are too large for one lifetime to hold. One day we will hear your familiar voice and feel your warm body in our lap or pressed against us as we sleep. Until then, know that every cell in our earthly bodies misses and longs for you. Our hearts are broken but we know a pain this unbearable can only come from a sweetness and love so much more enduring than our sadness.