For background, this is my post from almost three years ago. Molly’s visit follows it.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. I tried not to get close to you. I tried not to love you. I knew that it would hurt too much if you ever left me and so I tried not to love you.
So this wasn’t supposed to happen. Now you’re gone. Just as I think the tears are all gone, they begin again.
How is it that you got to me? How is it that I let you get to me?
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
This week, while sorting through things in my bedroom, I saw Molly out of the corner of my eye. I laughed at myself. She has been gone for almost three years. There are no cats here anymore. It was my imagination. A few minutes later, there she was again. And a couple of hours later, again. Always in my bedroom which is where she used to sit at the window looking out. The next day it happened again. Then the next day, sitting on the couch, I looked down at my pants and there was her fur. It was hers but there hasn’t been any cat fur in my house since Molly died inn 2012. But it was there. I picked it off of pants and felt it. It was real.
Then yesterday I hear her meowing.
I guess the phantom kitty is visiting.