It was worse than when I was young, and harder to accept. It was only 6 months ago when he died, and being that I only had him, it was hard to let him go of, even as an adult.
I sat in my room that night, holding a picture I had of him, wishing that I had one more night with his sweet and comforting purrs. I decided when I couldn't sleep, that I wanted to write him out one last farewell. I put it up by his urn on my shelf, and at least felt slightly better. Enough to go to sleep.