dear eleanor,
you've been gone now for 7 days. it's been a rough week. i wanted you here at the new apartment so that it felt like home. i was counting on you for that! but honestly, it's so much harder when i go back to the old apartment. i can't wait until i don't have a key to that door and never have to go back there. it's too hard. i still anticipate you, waiting at the door, as i walk up the stairs. i can never get to you soon enough. so, sweet girl, if you had to go i guess you got the timing right. i couldn't have lived another day in that apartment without you. i will always remember it as "our" apartment. apartment # 7. i thought it would be lucky. it wasn't. you lived most of your life in apartment 7. you have 7 letters in your name. you died on 7/7. i used to like 7s. not anymore.
i'm sorry i wasn't a better mom for you. i didn't play with you enough. i didn't brush you. i barely ever gave you treats. but i hope you know that i loved you. and i really, really liked you.
i still think about you when i crumple a plastic bag. i know you always hated that sound, so i always tried to do it quietly. i still do. i wonder how long before that will go away. how long it will take for an image of you not to pop up in my head when i picture home.
i think you would like my new apartment. there are lots of windows to look out of. and lots of space to run. i really think you would've liked it.
i'm off to sleep. and hope to dream of you.
love,
mama
p.s. give mitty a big kiss from me!
