Steve and I are both so aware of his absence in the house. He was such a presence, and that presence is not here right now, and there is an emptiness in that, and he is also holding the door open to a great expansiveness. He gives us the peek that all those I love who die give to me, and then, I return to here.
We are in sorrow.
I think today of how many people are affected by this little guy, who didn't do so much in some ways. No skyscraper stands in his name, and yet, I think what he did heart-wise is more than anyone could ever hope to do. This little guy is missed, and I am grateful he is freed from his aging body, and blissfully floating everywhere in the world, even as he still wraps me in his love, kindness, and care.
I left the outside light on for him last night. Steve thought he didn't need it, but I felt he would appreciate it. The owl guards his spot now, and he is shaded by trees.
He could have gone when I was in treatment, but he stayed here, in an aging and decrepit body, to take care of me. As I got better, he got worse. I owe him a great deal, and I know he carries the love from all of us where he is now.
I had planned to go to Monterey today and I will still do so. Three of us are gathering to honor the passing of the seasons. We will go to Carmel tomorrow and tour Robinson Jeffer's Tor House. I know Mandu approves of this, and probably chose the day to die that allowed us to be here, and yet, didn't interfere with any other plans. That is who he was, a kind and compassionate presence, who is, and will always be, greatly missed, by all who know and love him, whether personally, or through others. His circle is huge. He is greatly and deeply missed. Many tears water the grave of this little guy, and many more will come. We will have a memorial for him, when we can all gather together, in honoring our deeply beloved, Cat Mandu!