Callie
I had never
felt so alone. As I crawled into bed that first night without Larry, I was never
more aware of the gulf between where I lay and the side that had been his. Though
a king size, it had never seemed quite this big before. The bedspread, where he
would have been, lay flat with his two pillows set neatly in their place. The
emptiness of that space matched the feelings I had at that moment. The longing
to have him there, lying close to me, was overwhelming. I just wanted to feel
him, feel something. I turned to my side, reached for the light and welcomed
the darkness, anxious for sleep to take me away from these feelings of
loneliness and loss.
It could not
have been more than a minute or two later when I heard a plop on the bed and then
felt the weight and warmth of a small body lying on the back of my legs. Callie,
the calico that I had rescued just a few months earlier, did something she had
never done before. She decided to not only join me in bed that night, but to
lie in such a way that I would especially feel her closeness, her touch. And I
was comforted.
Callie has
continued to climb onto my bed since that first night, waiting for me to settle
in so that she can draw close for those few moments. God has his ways. For me,
he brought a little calico cat into my life that no one else wanted. I believe
it was for this very time, to remind me that I am seen and loved and cared for
more than I can possibly imagine. And for that, I am grateful.
