I’m supposed to be good at this. To take emotions and turn them into words, to find the joy in the pain, to turn the reflection back on itself and reveal something we didn’t know was there.

Maybe I’m not cut out for this writing thing.

Leon is gone. He had been suffering through a stomach tumor these last few months, but had been sick for nearly a year. His doctor was great, doing everything he could to find ways to keep him going.

The boys will miss him. Kota, especially. They don’t know it yet. Being 4 years old will do that to you. They’ll know he’s gone. They don’t know what death is yet, but they’ll feel it.

April and I were there with him, right at the very end. He called for us, loudly, at three o’clock in the morning. He was gone by four o’clock.

I told April he came into my world and left my world the exact same way. Calling for me.

I will miss him more than I could ever say. Than anyone could ever say. This feels like an important lesson, to know there are some things, some experiences, some emotions, that are beyond words. That there are some things that are beyond even this.

But for now, my cat is gone. And we’re all just a little bit sadder because of it.

This is the first picture I ever took of Leon. The same day I brought him and Lily home from the Humane Society.

Goodbye, Leon. I love you.