I’m supposed to be out on a date with my husband tonight. But, here I am, blogging away with the basketball game blaring on the TV in the background. We were supposed to go to an engagement party, and we are, certainly, long overdue for a date of any kind. But, Josh has caught my cold, so I called my parents and told them we wouldn’t be needing a babysitter tonight.

Another night on the couch, then. The Monkey in bed, Josh playing online poker, and me in front of my computer.

Lately, I feel like I’m living inside my head. Mourning is very isolating. It’s just you and the loved one–or the memory of the loved one in your head. I go about my day, but images of Simba keep emerging in my mind. Memories of my life with him–my university days, living alone in Toronto, moving in with my hubby, married life, and finally motherhood–all flooding to the fore. Simba was quietly with me for all of that. He was a constant. And, now he’s gone, and I move on. It’s a loss not only of a great friend, but of a feeling, of a part of my own being, and of a comfort that I took for granted (because I didn’t recognize it until it was gone).

The loss Simba has hit me harder than I would have ever imagined.

**********

I usually called him “Ba.” But, I also called him Symbol. I’d say, “I love you my Symbol of [fill in the blanks with any incongruous pair]“: “I love you, my Symbol of Strawberries and Paper,” “I love you, Symbol of Patience and Cake,” “I love you, my Symbol of Poop and World Peace,” and so forth….

Well, turns out he is indeed a symbol (among many other things that have nothing to do with me…). He is the symbol of my past….of my centre….of my “soul”….of my love….

**********

It was a week ago today that we said goodbye.
I love you, Symbol of Kisses and Tears….