When I turned the corner of our house, two eyes flashed in my light. Our feral cat, Tiger ran ahead and sat. Why didn’t he bolt for the barn? He ran ahead and sat. My dogs strained at their leashes. Tiger yanked at my heart strings. He snuggled the earth like when Gray was alive. Would the dogs be his friend? Tears welled up. Someone had set out rat poison, heedless of the broken hearts, heedless of poison running up the food chain.
There is no mending Tiger’s losing his brother. The sparrow God knows falls. Some of us will walk into next year with an ache as wide as the person who left. Some of us will crack open the door wondering if this will be the year when loss will smash the good times. Some will dance through with the joy of a new baby arriving, a new job, a new person to love who loves back.
The Storyteller, Dr. Martin Shaw, advises: “Show discernment about what you choose to remember and what you choose to forget. What stories don’t you need to carry anymore? Don’t walk into 2025 with them. Decide what you’re going to curate, bring with you, and we shall see where it leads us.”
Maybe we need to forget the story of those backs forever turned leaving us with stunned hurt. Maybe we need to hold close the people we love, and those who are no longer here.
I’m Katie Andraski and that’s my perspective.
