Grief Outlet

It's been a month now since Milo died and I miss him so much. There are a thousand little things that remind me of him every day and induce fresh bouts of tears at least once daily. Making the bed triggers memories of how that little chug-butt managed to take up a third of the bed when physically he was only about an eighth of the size of each of the human occupants. Every time I drop an ice cube or a piece of food and don't hear him come running to scavenge, it's like a knife in the heart. When we return home after running errands or visiting friends, it takes me a moment to realize that we don't need to take him out, and when that realization hits, it almost takes my breath away. It's those little moments that happen countless times each day when I remember that I will never again experience some simple mundane event that really hit like a sucker punch. It hurts. I miss my baby.