musings on being sad, finger of god pictures

I'm going through that counting phase that happens after a loved one's death. A week ago I had my Zen. I fed him breakfast and went to work. I was doing the dishes this weekend (a rare thing, I know) and thinking that when I used some of these dishes I had my kitty. The last time I ate pizza, I had my cat. The last time I watched this show, I had my cat. It's coming up now on a week--I brought him to the vet at 3:00 on Monday and I was home by 4:00 and I never saw him again.
I have a song stuck in my head--I must have heard it on the radio--I think it's the Scorpions--"This can't be the end/just give me a chance/I'm still loving you" and of course I won't ever stop loving my cat, and I know the pressure in my chest will ease and I'll stop crying several times a day.
Something else happened to me last Monday which I'd almost forgotten about until my husband asked me what I'd done with our new camera. When I was leaving for work, it was dingy out, and I saw a curious thing. A shaft of light came through the clouds and the trees and landed exactly on the altar in the middle of my circle. I felt compelled to go inside, get the camera, and photograph it. Usually I pretty my pictures up but these I did nothing to. By the time I found the camera and put a chip into it the light had moved somewhat but you get the idea: