There’s Only You

Love Lost in A Minute

Cathy Bolden, LMFT
4 min readJun 18, 2024
photo provided by author —Murphy

I miss stroking your lion’s mane — your amber hair ablaze within my fingertips. Without it there, all I see is the decrepit wrinkles on my hands, scars of yesterday and today. I always said you would have made the perfect man with your gentle ways. Your eyes heavy with a daze of admiration and glee. Oh, how you adored me like no other. Sometimes I called you pumpkin or muffin, but when I kissed you, I tasted a ripe, sweet peach. I could have run with you forever and needed nothing in return. I had some before you, and I’ll have a few after you, but none will touch me like you did.

I used to rest my hand on the side of your thigh, and I called it a ham hock. It felt so beefy and strong and made me feel safe. I always said that was my lucky rabbit’s foot. I touched that same spot every night when you curled into bed. I knew your days were numbered, I just didn’t know how few. You gave me seven years, which is ironic, because seven is a lucky number in some cultures. Seven rings are said to symbolize a long life, good friends, health, love, wealth, peace and happiness. You gave me all of those things, my heart, because with you, I needed none.

photo provided by author — Murphy with his PawPaw and my daughter (PawPaw, Murphy’s other love, was just put down to rest five weeks ago)

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Cathy Bolden, LMFT

therapist, artist, writer, small business owner, mediocre athlete, special needs mother and caretaker - interested in a lot of topics, but my writing goes deep