You were tired that day

 You were tired that day.

Your breathing slow, your eyes full of stories we both remembered.

I held your paw because I didn’t know what else to do.
My words were breaking, but my touch said what language couldn’t —
I’m here. I love you. You’re safe.

I wanted to be strong for you,
but the truth is, I was falling apart quietly inside.
And still… you comforted me, even as you let go.

When the world went still,
I thought love had stopped with your heartbeat.
But it didn’t.
It shifted — into light, into memory, into the unseen air that still carries you.

Now, sometimes I wake and swear I feel you there —
the weight of your paw against my palm,
the warmth of your trust lingering like sunlight after rain.

That moment wasn’t just goodbye.
It was a doorway.
From my world to yours,
from my hands to heaven’s fields.

And when my time comes,
I know you’ll find me again.
You’ll press that same paw into my hand,
and this time…
we won’t let go.