A couple of months ago, my cat Tittu went missing. It was so sudden. He has a habit of wandering outside but always finds his way back home. One morning, he went out and just… didn’t come back. We searched the entire neighborhood and extended the search from a 2km to a 5km radius, but still, no sign of him. Cats are wired differently—they hide when they’re in unfamiliar territory, trying to protect themselves.
When Tittu went missing, I struggled to handle the grief. Those first few days were so hard; I couldn’t imagine my room without him. My room was his room—his toys, treats, everything that kept him company was in there. Tittu used to sleep beside me at night. When he was a kitten, I tried to train him to sleep on his own, but it never worked. He’d sit outside my door and meow until I opened it. When he was suddenly gone, memories of him were everywhere, and I hadn’t realized just how deeply attached I was to him until he disappeared.
The thing with grief is that it comes in waves. Sometimes, it’s gentle—a quiet gratitude for the time we had together. Other times, it’s overwhelming, like being stuck in the middle of the ocean with huge waves crashing down. I’d get so emotional that I’d cry myself to sleep some nights. My mom kept telling me I needed to move on, that I should stop thinking about Tittu. That’s when I realized grief is such a personal journey, and sometimes even those closest to us don’t fully understand the pain we’re going through.
About a week later, with still no sign of Tittu, I decided to pack his things and move them to storage. It helped more than I expected. By removing the constant reminders, I could ease some of the triggers that kept bringing me back to the pain of losing him. It wasn’t a solution, but it made a difference. In the months that followed, I was swamped with work and traveled a lot. Being away helped me cope better; the change of scenery made a difference. But still, there were moments when the grief would hit unexpectedly. I started writing, talked to friends about it, and sometimes I’d just scroll through photos and videos of Tittu and smile at the memories.
I feel like we often hide the emotions that truly make us human. I wanted to share this as a way to acknowledge that grief is real and valid. Everyone copes differently, but in the end, grief is grief. Sometimes, simply acknowledging it is the first step toward healing. If you’re going through a difficult time, I hope this post brings you a little comfort. I hope you know you’re not alone. Time does help you heal, but you have to walk yourself through to the end of the tunnel. After all, what is light if you can’t first see the dark?
Sharing some pictures of this naughty lil boy that brought me so much joy in such a short span of time.
Wherever you are, Tittu, I hope you’re happy and safe. You still make me smile, and you live on in every memory we shared. I miss you so much, and I hope you know just how loved you are. Thank you for making me a better person, for teaching me patience, gentleness, and what it truly means to love unconditionally.
Love you lil boy.
XOXO
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