There are some griefs that run too deeply to express in words.
I could write thousands of words about her. How she came into my life sixteen years ago, an enexpected Christmas present. How she stayed by my side through some of the most difficult times of my life. How she criss-crossed a continent with me, from Alaska to New York and back again. How love poured out of her onto everyone she met. How she gravitated toward anyone with an available lap. How the first time Rory met her, he said "I didn't think cats could be so affectionate." How she always seemed to sense when someone needed comfort, and would sit by their side, purring loudly enough to rival a lawnmower. How people who didn't like cats loved her.
But none of that captures how special she truly was. How many people's lives she affected, and how crucial she was to my being. How I quite literally cannot imagine existing without her.
If you ever met Jade, you'd understand. Nothing more needs to be said.
In one year, I lost both Sapphire and Jade. For so long, it was the two of them, always the two of them. I feel like something inside me has snapped, and nothing will ever be the same again.
Thank you for taking care of me for so many years. You were the best cat in the universe. I love you, Jade.