Haunted

One of Jaxson's hallmarks was the unique way he would wake Grey and me up early every morning. As a young cat, this was him finding the spot in the hallway where the acoustics were perfect to echo his meows throughout the condo (and on some days, throughout the building). In Boston, he turned his attention to shades, rattling them just right. But the house in California brought sliding glassdoor blinds into his repertoire, adding a distinctive 'clacking' sound as he would pass his tail along them, with the only relief from the madness being to open the door and release him into the pre-dawn to explore.

Daisy, though enjoying the outdoors, was not a dawn kitty. While Jaxson loved the mist and the cool air, she was content to lay in her bed, saving her exploits for later in the day or evening.

All that changed after Jaxson died, with Daisy taking up his morning routine, driving both Grey and me a bit insane.

This change isn't the only thing I've noticed since Jaxson passed. I catch glimpses of a black and white form in the garden most days, lingering in the areas that I regularly tend. Cupboard doors for cabinets he used to explore have been left ajar. And despite my neighbors complaining of rats, we haven't had a single one (note that Daisy is not a mouser). 

Ghosts have been on my mind as of late, particularly with stories about people being visited by loved ones who died from COVID. For some, the experience is terrifying, but hearing about others describe the peace they feel with those contacts, allowing them closure, has been heart-warming and reaffirming in my long-held belief that those we love never truly leave us.

I don't know how long the haunting will continue. A part of me hopes it will be for a long while, even though the sightings and strange occurrences are happening less. For now, all I can do is treasure the signs, hoping that this ghost can sense how deeply he is loved and missed.