I was in a daze this week. I lost my soulmate, and as a result, time moved strangely. Whole days disappeared and by Friday, I couldn’t believe almost a week had gone since I’d said goodbye to Sammy. On Sunday, though, when they delivered his ashes, I couldn’t believe it had only been a week. I felt like I’d lived a whole month in the matter of a few days.
Sunday
I don’t know what happens to any of us when we die — I don’t subscribe to any particular religion, but I’m also not quick to dismiss the concept of god or heaven. So much seems possible but unbelievable at the same time.
I do know that we all have an energy to us, and some of that energy makes up our physical being and some our nonmaterial self. Call it a spirit, a soul, whatever you’d like. And I think when we die, our energy changes, not disappears. I mean, that’s a law of physics, right? Energy can’t be created or destroyed?
It’s nice to think that our souls don’t just vanish — that we’re not simply dead. For some reason, I keep thinking of that Velveteen Rabbit quote…
Monday
You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out, and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.
Velveteen Rabbit
Maybe when we die, we become. And maybe that’s in a heaven or a hell, or maybe that’s right here on earth. We know our bodies feed the earth; maybe our souls do, too.
Maybe you become the thing you love.
Like a musician. Maybe when they die, they find heaven in becoming a song, or feeding into music somehow. They get to live eternally in the music that exists. Or a writer will find heaven in being that spark of an idea for future authors or between the pages of their favorite books, living amongst the words that spoke to them and made them feel hope.
Tuesday
And my Sammy? He loved me.
Maybe his soul will feed mine now. Maybe in the future, when I feel a sense of contentedness or peacefulness — the type of feeling I associate with his soft weight and calming pure — his energy will be a part of that.
Wednesday
I don’t know… maybe that’s a bunch of hooey, but when I crawled into bed the night he left me, it felt all wrong. It was like going to bed with socks on or the pillow in the wrong position or on the opposite side of the bed. Something just felt off.
I made him a spot next to me like I always do because I couldn’t not, and I laid my hand there like that would make me feel closer to him somehow. As I closed my eyes on the tears that were welling up again, I felt a tingling on the back of my hand. It was like his whiskers had tickled me or the ends of his fur had brushed against me.
I felt like an imprint of his little soul had curled up next to me. And it was that thought that let me drift off to sleep.
Thursday
During the rest of the week, I took comfort in the other animals in my life. I visited Bailey at my parent’s and let Tyson come into the entrance way, though he very obviously thought he should be allowed in the rest of the house.
Friday
I considered having Bailey over for a sleepover because the house felt so empty without Sam. My cozy living room, less so. My warm bed cooler. My kitchen quieter. But in the end, I just couldn’t let Bailey come intrude on Sammy’s space. My favorite blanket still smells of him — like fresh laundry and maple syrup and Fritos. And I want to hold on to that for as long as I can.
Saturday
Though I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to resist letting Tyson in.