Half a Year After It Left, I Still Can’t Put Its Bowl Away

It has been half a year since it left, yet I still can’t bring myself to put its bowl away.
It passed away peacefully that day.
I sat blankly for an entire afternoon.
When I finally snapped out of my daze,
my hands were already washing its food bowl.
I scrubbed it thoroughly clean.
It felt like a ritual, yet also a form of escape.

I carried the bowl to the balcony to dry.
I thought I was ready to let go.
But early the next morning, I brought it back indoors.
I placed it back in its usual corner, just like old times.

Tiny splatters of salmon cat food still dot the wall,
flung there while it ate its meals.
I cannot bear to wipe them off.
Every time I see that bowl, it feels as if it is still here.
It might come back at night,
take a few licks from the bowl,
glance at me, and leave again.

I keep wondering:
Does putting the bowl away mean “saying goodbye”?
Or does leaving it there represent true “remembrance”?
I cannot tell…