Indra, the heart of my heart, died on Thursday evening. She went into kidney failure quite suddenly, and in the evening had a massive seizure that they couldn't get her back from. I wasn't there.
I seem to lose her again at least 100 times a day. Every time I stand up and wait for her to come get under my feet as she follows me from room to room, every time I turn to look for her to see how she's doing, every time I cry and she' not there insistently trying to hug me like she always did when I cried. Coming home is the worst part - I always loved coming home, I'd walk in and she'd be in the hallway, or at least blinking sleepily when I turned the corner into the living room. She'd miaow at me and I'd miaow back, and then she'd pad over to me and insist on a hug and some scratches before I did anything else. Now she's not there when I come in, and I say hello to an empty room. When I look down to her sleeping spot, she's not there, and never will be again.