When we came home Sunday night, Basil was gone and he's not coming back. Basil (BAH-zil) is—was—my cat. Sweet and soft and exactly the size of my lap.
I had no idea it would hurt this much. Grief, that is. The absence of him.
My yoga teacher says that our bodies talk to us without words. And so it was with Basil; he talked to me without words. And now, where I feel his absence the most is in my body.