It's early morning here. I'm hiding in bed with the cat. We have become best friends, especially since everyone has left and she has realized I'm the only food source available. I talk to her constantly, she stares at me, she lays on my stomach, she tolerates my crying sessions and I am beginning to realize she is much smarter than I am. She sits still with her grief, staring out the window. I have a lot to learn from this cat.
I've decided to continue writing on this blog for awhile. I think it's helped me to express my feelings and from speaking with many of you, perhaps it's helped you deal with losing Ellen as well. I cannot understand all of the raw emotions flowing through me these past couple of weeks, but I know I have to sort them out and begin this difficult journey of finding "me" again. It might get ugly.
Ellens service was beautiful. It was such a loving tribute to her and so many friends and family traveled to be here for it. I think what most people seemed to take from the service was the feeling of a positive and healing love. It brought us close to Ellen and each other, it comforted us, it helped us understand who she was in this world. It was uplifting. It was a lovefest. It was so Ellen. I know I will carry this with me these next months, reminding me when I am down, hiding in bed and not sure how to put my foot on the floor. This is who Ellen was in this world, a healing message of love.
The cat already knew this.