My life has gone to hell in a hand basket since Holly went to the Rainbow bridge on New Years Eve.
The only way I can explain how I feel, is to think of a page from Robert Graves' masterpiece "I Claudius, " when he talks about the dark depression he went through when his brother died and said "I won't talk about it"
The last two years have been trying, loosing the cat made me question everything. I don't want to discuss it here, it's too painful, to raw. It's an open wound. She is in a cherry wood box on my dresser. I weep daily at the sight of it.
I don't know if I will continue to blog, or I will just keep trying to keep on living through this dark morass that is my soul now.