This guy. My heart.
He’s called Ashki, which means “little boy,” in Navajo. Sometime I’ll tell you the story of how he got his name.
One year ago today, he relapsed for the second and last time. He had IMHA – immune mediated hemolytic anemia. At least we think that’s what he had. His case was unusual.
They say the first year of grieving is the most difficult. Getting through all the holidays and birthdays, the first ones, without your loved one.
I’ve been anticipating today, knowing it was coming. Knowing that today leads to the first anniversary of his death, in a little over a month.
The other day, I kept thinking of him. I kept thinking, I need to check on Ashki. I kept feeling like I would look over and see him, see his goofy face, waiting by the door. It didn’t hurt like it usually does though. It was just strange.
I miss him so very much.