by Sandi Asazawa
This morning I felt good. I was singing, getting ready for work, not worrying about anything. Then Kitsu, my Himmy baby, came over to me. Something fell in the bathroom and he got really scared. He pressed herself into my stomach as he sat on the bathroom sink asking me to protect him. . . And I remember you. I remember how, on that last day, when I lifted you out of your carrier, and sat you on that metal table, you pushed your head, your poor tired little head against me and asked me to protect you, for the last time. But I did what I knew I had to do. I let the doctor do what we were there to do, I let her start that IV in your vein, and I let you go. I pray you knew that I was protecting you, protecting you from pain and suffering. Letting you go because I loved you. I hope you knew, Meesh. And in my bathroom, alone at 7 am, I am crying again, a sharp stab of pain, even though its been almost two years. As I sit here typing this, the pain comes again, and I weep again for the loss of you. It always takes me by surprise when the pain comes so hard and so sharp. I guess I feel like I should be better, and I am, most of the time. But those moments. . .I love and miss you still, my sweet, sweet Meisha, and it seems like I always will.