Empty Spaces At the Foot of the Bed

Susie and Delia are happy we’re home. Actually, I’m happy to be home, too. What is they say about traveling–it’s nice to go traveling, but it’s so much nicer to go home. I honestly don’t know how much those two girls missed me but I sure know how much Michael and I missed them.

Someone told me once that cats have no concept of time so when you leave them with the cat sitter for a few days or a week, it makes no difference. As long as they’re fed and given water and a clean litter tray. I think that person had no concept of how her cat really felt.

Somehow, I could travel to the most lavish and luxurious hotel on earth. Check in to the most deluxe suite. Jump into its super king size bed heaped with down coverlets. And I would feel a void. I might have Michael cuddled next to me in bed. A room overlooking an azure sea yet sense something missing at the foot of the bed. An empty space.

Maybe that’s the best way to describe it for all of us. Empty space. The time spent away from one another better reserved for “together”.

For vacations, it is very temporary. We barely notice how empty the space is. For unfortunate life circumstances, it seems longer. We pine. For others, it is permanent. We have to live with the emptiness.

Maybe, that’s what my friend meant when she tried to explain her cat–he really wasn’t able to understand how long the emptiness would last. But he could feel it.

Michael and I know a vacation is a vacation. Susie and Delia just know we are gone.

That’s why we are often met with a cold shoulder when we return. They had no idea we’d be coming back.

And the good news–today, there aren’t any empty spaces at the foot of the bed.

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