Today I'm starting to recover from the horrible loss of Ville. He has come back to me. Ghost-Ville.
I may not have his body to cuddle, but his soul is with me. We went through this toghether. When he died, I died too. I have been reliving that day over and over again, every step of the way, until the pain transformed into peace. The panick when the moment was inevitable, the running around in circles with nowhere to hide, then finally giving up and surrender to death and embracing that moment with all the pain that followed. The betrayal of the heart that could not keep itself from breaking even though we tried to be strong. But then at one point yesterday I felt:
- You can't take this love away from me, it's mine.
And started to pull back. If I hadn't done that all life essence would have slipped away from me. A matter of survival. My heart must go on. Life will find a way.
There he came. He had been trapped in his body. When the vet flashed a light into his eyes after he had died, I saw that he was still in there. I also got visions of my dad and grandmother laughing and being happy that we made it. They were happy to see him and he and Vilma immediately started playing and cleaning eachother, just like before, but a part of him was still in the body. The molecules that once contained his soul are in a stage of transformation and that takes time let go of. They will find new connections in the dirt out in the forest and become one with the forest soul and the Earth. That consciousness will also be a part of Ville. The weasels and critters out in the forest came to look at him, curious at first, then recognising their king from before. They had wondered where he has been.
- In the city, I conquered the city too, Now I'm king over the whole town. Bring me food.
They brought him food. He got stronger and started walking. He walked all the way through his old neighbourhood with all the people, cats and dogs cheering him on. He walked slowly and with great pride and had regained his majestic appearance. He walked by his old home, the small apartment in the corner where the door was always open, coffee always in the kettle and people sitting and talking by the kitchentable. He stayed there for a while. New people living there was however weird.
- Who are you? What are you doing here? Where are the others?
They were there too, but the dimensions fluttered. He wasn't supposed to stay there. That reality will be recreated elsewhere. He went out through the main door, always wanted to do that, and set the course for the city. Guided by his heart and the smell of beefstick still lingering in the air he found his way home again, back to mommy, back to my bosom, lying on my chest. The heart hasn't healed yet, but it has started and that counts for something.