09/05/2025
Another beautiful, but emotional post ....
https://www.facebook.com/photo?fbid=734018462974573&set=a.679371738439246
I climb into your suitcase, not to travel, but to stop you from leaving. You laugh when you see me curled inside.
You call me silly. You lift me out gently.
But I am not being silly. I am trying to hold on.
Every time you zip that bag, my chest tightens.
Because I know what it means. You will be gone. And I will be left counting the days by the silence in the house.
I remember the first time.
I sat by the door all night, pressing my ear against the wood, waiting for the sound of your key.
It never came.
Not until many suns rose and fell again.
When you finally returned, I buried my face in your sweater. I breathed you in until my lungs hurt. You smelled like other places, other people, but still, you were mine.
You never see the way I wait.
How I drag my toy mouse to the door.
How I curl up on your pillow, nose pressed where your head used to rest.
How I stare out the window, certain I will know your footsteps before anyone else’s.
But you do notice other things.
The way I paw at your plate, and you always sneak me a little bite.
The way I press my head against your chest when you cry, and you whisper secrets into my fur.
The way I follow you from room to room, never letting you feel alone.
We are stitched together by small moments.
A sunbeam we share on the carpet.
Your hand on my back when you read aloud.
Your laugh when I knock over the glass left too close to the edge.
I know you love me.
Even when you leave.
But still, when I see the suitcase, I climb inside. My paws press against the folded clothes. My heart presses against the fear that one day, you might not come back.
Time has its own ways.
Your hair carries silver strands now. My body is slower, softer.
Yet every time you return, I still leap clumsily into your arms, even if my legs ache for hours after.
I do it because I want you to know love does not fade.
One day, there will be a suitcase again.
But this time, I will not climb in.
This time, I will stay behind for good.
And when that day comes, I hope you will still feel me.
In the quiet corners where I used to nap.
In the faint scratches on the doorframe where I stretched.
In the soft indent on the pillow where I curled beside you.
I will be gone from sight, but never from you.
Never from your heart.
Not ever.
Because love like ours does not end.
It only changes shape.
It becomes memory.
It becomes comfort.
It becomes forever.
And if there is a place beyond this, I will be waiting by the door again.
Tail wrapped tight. Eyes wide with hope.
Listening for your footsteps.
Ready to leap into your arms the moment you come home.
