Tomorrow will be one year since my Timothy went to the Bridge. 24th August 2017, the worst day of my life. Ever.
My darling little Timothy. We loved you from the moment we saw you. Funny loppy baby bunny, with one ear up, one down. Little did I know then what impact you would have on our lives. Our perception of what bunnies are and what bunnies do was changed forever. Every precious day spent with you was joy, fun, worry, stress, perfection. We were so proud that you were ours. It was always like “look what we’ve got”….. Three and a half years of love and naughtiness. It was a colourful storybook, and there should have been many more pages, many more words, many more pictures, many more memories. We were not ready for it to end. There is a gulf as big as the universe between having to deal with the inevitable and accepting the inevitable.
I still see you. Lying under the table. Hopping up the garden path. Nibbling the grass. Waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. Up on your back feet, asking for your treats.
I still hear you. Your little feet on the kitchen floor. Thumping your feet when the pigeons caught your eye.Your piggy grunts when you chased me around the house, playing hide and seek. Scratching on the door to get in, and then to get out again because you were contrary like that.
I still feel you. Brushing against my leg. Nipping at my ankles. A fluffy bundle at my feet, keeping my toes warm. Little licks on my arm.
So, there is no full stop at the end of this story. Not even a comma. No closure. The rest of the pages that should have been full are now empty. They are wet with tears, but there can never be an ending. We miss you terribly, but you are with us always, because we can’t let you go and we don’t want to.
One day we will see you again, we have to, because the thought that we never will just cannot enter my mind.
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