Watching

Our Senior Cat stopped eating last November. Animals don't stop eating abruptly unless something is wrong. My radar went up and I have been watching him ever since.

We cajoled and convinced him to eat soft cat food and he started to maintain his weight and even regained his weight by the time he went for his annual check up and shots in the spring.

Things started to go downhill again as summer started slipping into fall. He has been doctoring ever since.

Antibiotics aren't fixing what is ailing him. He has lost more weight. He was a skinny cat to start with so it is very sad to pet him and feel less flesh and more bone.

Last week we started him on a very low dosage of a steroid medicine. He is five days into this new treatment and we sit back and wait. And watch ...

Yesterday our Senior Cat came up and voluntarily joined our morning. Four children under the age of three and two adults. And he was in the thick of it.

He weaved his way through the crowd and found his way to the New Person that he had not yet met. He greeted her with his monster purr and the drool that goes right along with that purr (he has never been able to swallow his saliva and purr loudly at the same time so the drooling is not a new thing).

After a while he spotted the three-year-old sitting quietly on the couch and snuggled up beside him.

Later on, all of us were nestled into the love seat and enjoying our pre-nap-snuggle-time. There was one triangle of couch left over after one adult and three children filled up the rest of the square footage that was available. Senior Cat sensed that there would be room for him (there is always room when you are a cat) and he filled up the one empty space on the couch.

Enjoying a short afternoon nap 

As the kids napped, Junior Cat joined me and his Senior companion. Junior cat is huge. He reminds me of a panther. He weighs at least five pounds more than our Senior Cat and could so easily overpower his elder and rule this domain. But he doesn't.

He hunkers down ... closer and closer to the ground, as Senior Cat has less and less energy. Yesterday, Junior quite literally crawled up to his master, his ears were completely flattened back against his head in a purely submissive way and he nuzzled the chest of His Majesty. Senior Cat is huge on grooming. He has washed the hair of any child that will lay their head down (in the same type of submissive move) for as long as that child will endure (click here Andre's Salon promo video).

Junior Cat relaxed and allowed himself to be groomed and a short little cat tussle ensued. The cat chases still happen, though a little less frequently and of shorter duration. The cat wrestling is shorter and sweeter. Two cats went flying through the hallway as I typed that paragraph ...

Senior Cat has always been a wanderer and has even hunted down a muskrat in his time (click here for that adventure What We Don't Know). He is an escape artist (he sped out the front door into the wilderness of our unfenced front yard two paragraphs ago) and knows exactly how and when to time his moves to sneak out the door within the time it takes for the door to close.

He is beyond ecstatic that he has the run of our fully enclosed back yard these days. He races out the back door in full escape mode as if to make the adventure a little bit more thrilling for him. We don't know if he has simply forgotten that he is allowed in the back yard or if this is just his way of re-enacting the thrill of The Escape. Once back there he revels in the sunshine, the bugs and watching birds fly overhead.

Andre hunts down a bee

We are watching him closely for signs that he isn't tolerating his new medication (so far, so good). More than that, we keep watching for signs that he is feeling a little bit more of his old self. We are savoring every cat chase, every nuzzle, every monster-purr, every indication that our sociable little cat is still alive and well underneath it all.

Every little bit of 'normal' feels a little bit more extraordinary when it isn't taken for granted. Life as we know it can be snatched out from under us without warning. Sometimes we are given notice. Sometimes we aren't.

Enjoy the little things today. Just because ...

Our very own set of  Twin Towers (of the Black Cat variety) as they watch over the entire main floor of our home

Thankful

The Thanksgiving holiday is behind me and I did not sit down and focus on gratitude. This is my favorite holiday of the year and I feel like I ignored it.

So I have gone back into the archives and dug up thoughts from Thanksgivings Past:

2007 - "I love a day that honors all that we have to be grateful for.  I love that I can shift my focus and find appreciation in even the smallest things.  Even things that have gone awry have a silver lining - all you have to do is look for it."

2008 - "I once heard a statement that was along the lines of: 'If you say no other prayer but thank you ... it is enough'. As I woke up this Thanksgiving Day morning, I found myself grateful for the most basic elements of life and living. When I look at the world around me and the smaller world of my home and family I realize how rich I am. And I am grateful."

2009 - "It's hard to be grateful for life's adversities when you are in the thick of them. You have to believe that if you work through those times and strive to build a life where you won't repeat the mistakes of your past ... you will one day look back at these dark days and say "Thank you". You will be grateful. One day."

2010 - "Today is Thanksgiving. This post should be entitled 'On Being Thankful' ... Truly, in my mind that is what being happy (for me) boils down to. Counting blessings, focusing on what I have, appreciating my family, friends and relationships and living a life with many options."

2011 - "It's been slow in coming ... but my 'happy' has returned. It ebbs and flows a little bit. It isn't a given. I have to work a little harder for it. But I feel it under my skin once again. The ability to find happiness in every day, ordinary little things.We appreciate things more, when we have to work for it. I promise to savor, be grateful and nurture the joy that is returning to my life. It is our Thanksgiving long weekend. A most perfect time to find that which I am grateful for and celebrate."

2012 - "Today is Thanksgiving for our southern neighbors so it was not surprising to find my daily inspirational message was one of a thankful sort. It was different than most because it dwelled on the fact that every day should be one of thanks. Not just once a year. Perhaps (they suggested) we should have an unthankful day if we are just going to devote one day out of every 365 to focus on it. And be grateful for the 364 remaining days. Good point."

2013 - "I am grateful for the dirt that has accumulated under this roof that shelters us. This Thanksgiving weekend was spent cleaning some of the nooks and crannies within our home. I didn't break the sound barrier with my speed. I puttered. As I puttered, thoughts, memories, voices of those who have touched my life reached out and touched me. I am so very grateful for a life that is full of such wonderful people, memories and thoughts to reflect on. I will never be lonely ... as long as I have my 'dirt'. Manual labor is (part of) the key to happiness. At least in my books."

Looking back through the years and reflecting on that-which-I-have-written, I feel a common theme that encapsulates my life. I have not lived a life of regret. I may have strayed off the path and struggled from time to time but there has yet to be a time that I have not found my silver lining.

My heaven on earth is living a silver-lined life. I'm very grateful that I've had to work for this little life of mine. If it had all been dropped on my lap I would have no idea how much I have.

And for that ... I am thankful.

Not the Weekend That I Had Planned ...

I really needed this weekend. It is not the weekend that I planned. But it is the weekend that I needed it to be.

Who knew that I would find insightful thoughts and a meaningful 'conversation' with a friend who just passed away ... by cleaning the oven?

These words led me to sending off an email to a group of friends. I haven't had the words, the depth or the clarity to send a coherent set of paragraphs to this group in longer than I can remember. I felt as if I had dried up inside and I couldn't find my set of water colors to paint the picture that wasn't inside of me in the first place. I felt peaceful and energized after I wrote the words that were at my fingertips yesterday morning.

One email begat another. And another. And another. One friend directed me towards checking out "Anita Moorjani". She is an cancer survivor that had a near death experience. I didn't know what I would find but I had the time to check it out. So I did (here is the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vvmABrII35c&noredirect=1 ).

This video is over an hour and a half long. What impacted me most is what Anita said within the first half hour (perhaps sooner). She described what she saw, heard, felt and experienced while she was in a coma. I believe that everyone could interpret her words differently but for me her words hit a powerful cord within me. Because I have had several incidents when I truly felt the presence of someone who had passed away. I have had many times in my life where I simply felt 'guided' to make the best decision for me. I do not feel alone in this world. Ever.

This weekend was to have been spent immersed in my dad's family's book. But it wasn't.

After listening to Anita Moorjani's talk yesterday morning I began to understand why it is of such importance to me to tell our family's story with compassion, gentleness and understanding of the people that I am writing about. It explains why I feel so incredibly connected to people that I never knew (my great grandparents) or didn't know well (my grandparents). I understand why it has been so very important to me to tell the stories of those who can't tell the story themselves. I truly believe that I have felt the essence of these characters in our story as I have struggled with the words to tell their story with truth and compassion.

I am beginning to understand part of the reason that I have been unable to put this story together and finish the job that I started. Because it is sacred work. I am only a small bit terrified at wrapping this up and printing it off because once it is out there I will not be able to take it back.

It explains why I feel the need to close myself off from the world and tune everyone out while I work on this. Because I need to feel that presence, the guidance and do my best to seek understanding behind the actions, reactions and stories that I have been told.

This explains so much. So very much ...

Perhaps with that knowledge in my back pocket I can go back and tackle this project. When I get stuck, I may just have to ask for assistance in a non-physical sense. Some how, in some way I feel that my fingers will be guided to tell the story the best I can tell it ... if I simply ask for help along the way.

The weekend has been full of insightful, meaningful moments in the quiet moments of cleaning the kitchen. Have I not heard it said that the kitchen is the heart of a home? I have been avoiding our kitchen like the plague lately. I have found more than dirt, grime and dust in the nooks and crannies of that space. I believe that I found a piece of myself as well.

Who knew that I would find what I was looking for in our kitchen? That is the last place that I would have thought to look!

Bon Voyage, My Friend

I cleaned my oven yesterday and I felt you with me the entire time. So I stayed in the kitchen and reminisced far longer than I normally would have.

The last oven I cleaned was yours. I cleaned your kitchen that day so I stayed in my kitchen as long as I could because thoughts, conversations and memories came flooding back to me.

You and I had an unlikely friendship. We were miles apart in who we were, how we lived and the way that we interacted with the world. But when we sat down and had a conversation, we peeled back the layers and found that which we had in common. And we bonded.

We studied the impossible together. We signed up for a correspondence course and we got through it. Together. That is probably where our friendship began.

You moved away but we never lost touch. That was back in the days of snail mail. I may still have your letters somewhere ...

Many years later, you moved back here. You sounded a little bit lonely at first but it wasn't long before you were back in the thick of living and surrounding yourself with work, friends, family, cooking and all-that-was-you.

A few years ago you found out the reason that you had been feeling so awful for so long. Cancer. "We never find it this early." "This is the best kind of cancer to have." By the time you told me the news, you had processed and understood and had a pretty good handle on the hand you were dealt. You are one of the most determined (and perhaps a little stubborn too) people that I know. You had this. You were going to rise above it all and beat this thing.

Cancer is mean and nasty. It doesn't fight fair. I became so angry at this disease that kicked you down each and every time you struggled to get up. You received bad news upon bad news. The cancer made you vulnerable to things that would have otherwise been nothing more than an angry stubbed toe. But you kept rallying and you continued to gather your strength to fight the good fight.

Just over a year ago, you received the news that your cancer was terminal. I heard the words but I never did internalize them. You were far too stubborn to let this awful disease consume you. My head understood the words but my heart refused to feel them.

The diagnosis seemed to waver just a bit and your prognosis sounded like it was more hopeful. In fact the very last time that I heard from you, you were optimistic that your cancer was in remission and that we would get together when you got back to the city. You were out of town at the time, meeting your new grandson. "I'm going to see my new grand baby go to Kindergarten!!" was your proud declaration as you waged your war against this disease that was proving to be a worthy opponent of your stubbornness. I believed you. I truly believed you ...

That was the last contact that we had. We never did get around to getting together. I heard that your cancer had gone into remission and my heart smiled at the news.

The summer passed and I heard that you were able to spend the summer out at the lake. Your previous summer's plans at the lake had been thwarted as you lived through many excruciating months. I was so very happy to hear that you spent your summer where you most wanted to be.

I got a call last week. You were in the hospital. It wasn't good. I knew that you had defeated the odds on more than one occasion and I would not have been surprised if you came back to us one last time. But you didn't ...

You still 'won'. Cancer didn't win this one. Your body simply wore out after all of the fighting. You went out on your own terms - you were still battling that cancer but a pre-existing condition came up and took you in the end. Somewhere deep inside of me, I feel that you know that you didn't let that cancer beat you.

I am still angry at Cancer. Why did it have to make you so vulnerable to a myriad of other things? It robbed you of your independence and it left you vulnerable. It did its best to strip you of all that you were.

I am grateful that you were the kind of person that you were. When I asked what I could do, you told me. You let me do something and in the end I am so very glad that I was able to help. I did very little. But I did something ...

What I felt more than anything whenever we had the chance to visit was your need to talk. You were up front and honest. You talked about everything. I know that you put on your brave face when you were around me and you only let the mask slip once. When the pain was bigger than you were.

There is nothing worse than standing at one's side and knowing that there is absolutely nothing you can do to take away someone's physical pain. In the end, if you actually stopped fighting ... I wonder if you did it for your family. To ease their pain?

You were a Mother Bear to the end. I believe that you would do anything for your children, grand children and step children. You even managed to bring your husband's children into your home so in the end ... he was not alone.

You are a wise woman, My Friend. You are determined, spirited, vocal and straight shooter. You left a mark on the world.

It is my hope that there is a Heaven and that you are back in the loving arms of your parents once again ... and quietly watching over and guiding the earthly family you have left behind.

Bon voyage, My Friend. You are in good hands now...

Coming of Age

If people didn't talk about this, I wouldn't even recognize it was happening to me.

We live in an information laden society. Google supplies answers to every little query on your mind. Even my mom calls and asks me to Google something for her from time to time. It brings a smile to my lips every time I hear Mom utter the words, "Can you Google ____  for me?"

Television talk shows, news magazine types of shows, specialized channels for everything you could imagine quench our thirst for that which amuses, teaches and entertains us.

Information, information, information. In this day and age it seems that we are surprised by less and in-the-know more often.

Until it happens to us me. Personally.

I've never considered myself to be one to be one of the pack when it comes to anything 'hormonal'. Perhaps those who live with me and know me better than I know myself would beg to differ with me on that topic. But on the whole, the whole balance/imbalance of hormones has not been debilitating for me. As an after thought, I have realized that I have not been immune to that-which-I-hear-others-talking-about. But on the whole I feel like I'm (sort of) in control of my emotions and reactions (three weeks out of four, anyway).

A while ago I was fighting a black cloud that seemed to penetrate my life. It wouldn't rain or storm or release itself in any way. It simply hovered over me and threatened to draw me in. It wasn't a fun place to be and I was becoming disheartened and discouraged by the fact that I couldn't fight this thing. It felt bigger then me.

Then I read up on menopause and all that precedes it. It turned out that my cloud was (most likely) filled with hormones fighting up a storm. The moment that I let it be 'all about the hormones' and less about my 'inability to cope', a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. It explained sooooo many things.

I recognized it and let it go. I didn't forget it. I tucked that bit of knowledge into my back pocket and carried on.

Then ... someone started jacking up the heat in the middle of the night on me some time last week.

The outside temperatures are dipping and I was wondering why in the world it was getting so warm that even a sheet was too hot while the thermostat stated it was cooler than I knew it was.

Another time, I was simply standing still. Suddenly someone was playing with the thermostat on me again. "Do you feel hot?" I asked My Son. Nope. It was just me. Again.

I didn't start catching on until these little warm spells came and went a few times. No. Not hot flashes. Warm spells.

If I didn't know better, I would think that our thermostat is broken. Thank goodness for Google. It is saving me a small fortune in therapist and furnace repair fees ...

I guess I am coming of age after all. I sort of thought I was invincible. Thanks a lot, Google. You have taught me otherwise.

Pet Therapy

I remember a point of quiet desperation in the midst of a time when my marriage was falling apart. I was sitting on the floor and two of our kittens started frolicking around and playing in a way that only kittens do. For that moment in time, I thought of nothing else but the kittens performing just for me.

When that marriage reached an end, I sat in a state of fear and paralysis. I was overwhelmed with the idea of navigating the path before me. I was broken into small, shattered pieces. Then our three month old son smiled. A smile of innocence, straight from the heart from a young soul who knew nothing more than the moment he was living in. And he was loving that moment. Every other worry in the world melted away while I sat still and enjoyed the moment with my small parcel of joy.

I was falling to pieces in public. My current job situation was taking me down. Swiftly. I was fighting for air and doing everything in my power to make an impossible situation work. But I was a small, frightened child inside. And I broke. I ran to the bathroom and who was waiting for me outside the door? But the ‘mascot’ of the place of business I was in. This dog sensed my vulnerability and was there to console me. And we had never previously bonded. It was an intrinsic, mystical, need-to-heal power that brought a dog-who-was-not-my-family to my side.

Whenever I have felt a little blue or lost in the world, I have a cat or dog (or baby) tale to tell about the way they carried me through a moment.

Pets are not fair weather friends. Dogs are notorious in their ability to love without condition. Even though cats have a bad rep about 'taking a message and getting back to you later', in my experience, they have provided endless hours of peace and serenity into my world when I needed (or wanted) it the most.

Listening to a cat purr is one of my favorite sounds in the world. Being the 'chosen one' by a cat is one of life's great honors. What cat lover hasn't had a cat fall asleep on them and force 'their person' to sit in a position far longer than intended so they didn't disturb that sleeping ball of fur snuggled up into the crevices of their body? Watching a cat in a sunbeam ... or sleeping ... or stalking a bug ... or bird watching from the window. These are just a few of my favorite things...

There is a sense of sadness that I feel from people at times. People who live alone. People who have a whole heart full of love to give and no one to share that with on a daily basis. People who could benefit greatly by taking care of another being. People who need to feel needed in their world. I wish (and I have tried, trust me ... I have tried) I could prescribe a pet to add a piece of joy into their lives.

People have many reasons (and most of them are very good ones) for not adopting a pet of their own. This is when I would prescribe a good dose of pet therapy. Find your pet of choice - everyone has different bias and natural affinity to love one furry critter over another. And let yourself love, feel, touch and be touched by this force of energy.

Feeling a little blue? Visit a friend with a pet. Offer to take a neighbor's dog for a walk. Visit a place of business that has a pet-mascot within. Wander through a pet store that allows interaction with the pets. Watch the birds frolicking in a park or your own back yard. Go for a walk and chances are that you will find a dog out walking with its person. Dog lovers are known for being friendly and willing to talk about and share their dog's story.

Animals have a way of breaking down barriers. They are non-verbal in their communication but they are masters at communicating. They give without expectations. They don't care who you are, how much money you have, how you look, if you had bad breath or a bad haircut. They accept you at face value and don't judge you.

Go out and enjoy an animal today. I think that you will be glad that you did.

The Evolution of Manners

I have been back running my daycare (the sequel) for just over a year now. I have known (two out of three) these guys for one half to one third of their lives. It is fun to be such an integral part of their growing up years. What I am enjoying most of all at the moment is the evolution of their manners.

My (now) three year old had just turned two when he started coming here. He spoke very well and you could understand the majority of what he said. This was as sweet as could be except at the table. "I want more milk!" (always loudly and always with an exclamation mark) is not cute. Even on a two year old.

From the start, I always asked him to repeat after me, "Could I have some more milk please?" Time after time after time after time. One year later, he (usually) says, "I want more milk ... Please."

We work on thank you and I always reply with "You're welcome", so they have learned that too. As time went on, I suggested, "Yes please" and "No thank you" to the ever-increasing vocabulary of manners and gratitude. 

A year later, my one-year-olds are talking and absorbing the world around them like a sponge. Our lunch time has evolved from grunts, motions and body language into an English-speaking table of small people. When my one-turning-two-year-olds were capable, I started 'withholding second helpings' until they said please first. 

It took a little bit of determination but "Pees!" eventually became the expected response. Which has evolved to "Yes please" and "No thank you". Personally, I find nothing sweeter than unprompted manners that fall off the tongue of a small child.  

One of my two-year-olds has confused the usage of "Thank you" with "You're welcome". This is completely logical if you think about it. Each and every time she heard the words "Thank you", they were always followed with "You're welcome". So every time I prompted her to say "Thank you", she always responded with "You're welcome". 

I hear the kids utilize their good manners within themselves. My heart soars when I hear a small child say "Excuse me" as they squeeze by someone else. "Please" and "thank you" when they are exchanging and negotiating toys amongst themselves equals cuteness to the nth degree in my books. Then when my little one who has confused thank you, with you're welcome comes out with an unprompted "You're welcome!" (in lieu of thank-you)? I'm in kid-heaven.

My little You're Welcome Girl has developed an additional habit of cuteness-of-the-manner-kind. One doesn't realize how often you ask a child something that is really not a question until they answer you. I must do this all of the time because You're Welcome Girl answers me with a sweet little "No thank you". Are you ready for bed? "Mmmm ... no thank you". Let's pick up the toys ... "No thank you". Can you give someone else a turn on the computer "No thank you". It is the sweetness in her voice and the innocence of her words that melts through my gruff exterior. And the others are catching on.

Good manners are contagious. Good manners open doors. Good manners show appreciation and respect. Good manners sound good on all of us. I am honored to be a part of this evolution of manners. I believe it is a good foundation to build on. 

Good manners are only the beginning. The evolution of kindness has already begun ...