Waiting

Cats have an excuse. You can't explain to them, "Here's what's going on, and why, and you guys will be OK no matter what; I'll keep you safe." Well, you can try, but they don't speak quite that much human. All they know is that their whole life disappeared with a flurry of boxes and a big noisy truck.

And they are kinda freaked out.

I, on the other hand, don't have this excuse. I know what's going on--I made it all happen. On purpose. I know vaguely what is coming down the road and why. And most of the time, I'm doing OK with it all. Every now and then, though, all I know is that my whole life disappeared with a flurry of boxes and a big noisy truck.

And I'll admit to being kinda freaked out.

I truly appreciate the kindness of those who are helping me out, especially MT who from day one said I was welcome to stay with her. But I admit I'll be grateful for the end of this week. Pretty much all I have to do these days is sit and wait, and think about how much I'm going to miss Pittsburgh and the life I had built here. Once in a while, Whiskey comes up to me and paws my arm, and looks up at me with an expression that seems to ask, "Where did home go? Why did we leave it?" I know the answer, but when all there is to do is ponder the question, your confidence in the answer is shaken. It's not exactly doubt, it's just being kinda freaked out.