Sunshine in the Morning but an Overcast Heart and a Miracle on Top!



Riordan at Christmas



Yesterday as I was driving to work, the sun was rising and shining into my eyes for the first time in a long time.  Yeah, I was running a little bit late--but with the clear sky and the golden-orange rising sun, I realized that while I should be rejoicing that the gray, rainy overcast skies of the past few days were gone, I was still pretty gloomy and down in my heart.

Riordan is still missing and presumed lost for good.

Despite massive nightly searches in the neighborhood and surrounding area, coupled with enticements of fresh (canned) warm tuna on the door step, he has not been convincingly sighted since his mysterious disappearance while we were away at Great Wolf Lodge over the weekend.

The hole in my heart and Chris's heart is huge--the sense of loss and wrestling with the unknown--is he alive? Is he scared and cowering somewhere too afraid to move? Is he dead?

It really brings new meaning to the story Jesus told about the shepherd searching for one lost sheep. (Luke 15:4-6). We have searched every night, every time we go through the neighborhood we look for the tell tale signs that he is about, every chance we get.

Louie

I feel like a total idiot standing in the yard and walking on the street calling  for the lost cat--but I do it.

I'm hoping for a happy ending--like Lassie Come Home, or The Adventures of Yellow Dog.  But, I am beginning to lose hope and believe we should try to move on and accpet life without him. It is hard though, because even Louie, our other cat, seems to notice the loss.

I know I will always looking into the woods around our house and wonder if he is out there somewhere--until there is some closure.

But about Riordan--I don't want to eulogize him yet--but he was THE CAT of cats. If you take every cat I have ever had--and took their good qualities and rolled them into one cat--it would be Riordan.

I remember cats of old like Daisy, and Ghengis Kahn, and George, and Squishy, and Sylvester, and a more recent cat of huge fame--Hans. Riordan, although only with us since September, will always be held in the same regard as the great cats--and one that I was proud to have known and enjoyed.

And so, this morning, day six of his disappearance, my hope is that if Riordan is still able, that he will find his way back to us. And if he is unable, that he is at peace. And that whatever happens--Chris and I can find peace, too.

addendum:

But you know what? As I finished writing this--guess who came meowing at the door--just like in the movies as all hope was lost. I remember Yellow Dog running over the fields--just at the same time as the good-byes were being said.

Riordan has returned. Back from where ever and just a little bit worse for the wear, but in seemingly good health with no major battle scars. He is a bit freaked out, but had no trouble wandering straight back into the house, our lives, and our hearts. He touched noses with Makayla on his way through the door and Louie was clearly happy to see his best bud return.

Miracles do happen.