She’s just an old cat. When my older daughter was away at college, the old cat and I became closer than ever. Cats are like that: not too finicky when hunger strikes – loyalty lies in the hand who feeds and provides a loving stroke or two. Our family “rescued” her when my eldest was all of seven years old. Now approaching sixteen, its been a long time since her feline body lay in my lap. So it occurs to me, on this day, estrangement takes on odd feelings at times. If not for the distance between my children, when in town, perhaps a quick pet visitation possible? Texting my ex, I ask that if younger daughter not home, I might stop by for a brief snuggle with the old girl.
Upon hearing his response, I am reminded once again, I remain on the outside periphery, looking in. I am informed, in fact, not a good day for cat visitation as younger daughter home all day. I am not welcomed. Ironically, news sent in between texts, an ex-husband and wife – our communication not helpful, more hurtful for me. Not enough anymore to merely connect with him anymore, my feelings slowly creep along, more realization how much I crave, desire the feelings I once had for family – the family I once felt so much a part of – the feeling of belonging.
And thus, I write like this, thoughts of self-pity, no longer…these are feelings of longing, loving, wondering where to place my emotions. When discussing this with a friend earlier this week, sharing how my outside friendships with girlfriends have proved quite profound, her response, “It’s easy to (manifest) friendships when you don’t have a family”, cause me to defy everything said in that sentence. And I come to new conclusions: I will not allow myself to surround myself with those who judge, continue preserving self-doubt any longer.
All well and good. I would like to hold that sweet old girl. It is not to be. And I’m sad. It’s as simple as that.