I saw a black cat with a white nose and chest tonight. It’s the third black and white cat I’m seeing for the past week. This one was young, friendly and curious, he approached me and let me pet him. Which made me cry uncontrollably, because we’re around the anniversary of Echo’s death and all these black and white felines are signs of a complex process of grief and remembering. I always tell my kids that we shouldn’t stop loving the ones who are dead. I love you, Echo, I miss you.

Tonight is Hunter’s moon. I’ve read that it stirs passions and brings courage. Which made me think of Kai Cheng Thom’s explanation of the word courage, that it comes from French cœur and rage – heart and rage. My heart feels very on edge. There was a moment today when I was literally trembling with anger and vulnerability. There was a moment when I was walking through the lunch hour crowd with music on the highest possible volume in my ears. Ukrainian music that got me through the crazy turbulence and trauma of my youth, through two revolutions, through the first months of war when I couldn’t sleep, when my throat hurt from howling. I listen to this music, not often, but from time to time, to remind myself who I am.

There were beautiful WhatsApp threads and a message from Rosie and a tiny moment of lucidity near a cedar bush, when I realised that I don’t just live, I AM loved and I need to accept this as a basic fact of reality.