Feb 11, 2015
A quick check in to say these few things.
Fiona got the flu. I jinxed myself by saying we’d never had her throw up because she did that all over me and the couch cover this morning. Nurse says this flu bugs going around but it’s the fever that is the hardest to watch. She’s clingy and listless, sleep patterns are all messed up.
Good news is that I took advantage of her droopy state yesterday and finally got out my newsletter! Applause please.
If you didn’t get one and would like to in the future, sign up in the box over on the right side of the blog there. It was a nice catch-you-up kinda thing if you don’t check in here on the blog as often as you’d like.
School was cancelled today due to icy roads. I found myself biting my lip trying to write and ended up with my brain tied in knots and a baby wanting to be my hat. However, Eamon made chocolate chip cookies from scratch all by himself. I only stood there, asked if he really needed a tablespoon of salt or did it say teaspoon, and helped with a little of the mixing when his arm got tired. But he did the rest. And I so hope that kind of pride leads to other household tasks that benefit my belly in the future.
Laundry’s about done, children are making Valentine’s Day cards upstairs and Mark will be home from his appointments soon for burger night. My life is really good and mundane. And I think I like Hump Day kinda unhumpy right like that.
Ps You know don’t you that two hours later I discovered we were completely out of gas for our stove when the burners went dead on the stovetop.. I ended up cooking our burger night burgers on the grill out in the cold. Thankfully our oven is electric so fries were cooked and the stove top stayed clean. Yay. But by 7:30, Fiona had cried at me so much, my post traumatic stress disorder was rising again. The eye twitch is all gone and I do not hope for its return. Laundry still done. No more throwing up and fever seems abated. Wait, is that my stomach feeling upset? Do I feel hot to you?
Feb 8, 2015
Apparently, I have a big butt-ache about perfection. I often won’t even attempt stuff unless it’ll be worth the effort ie. perfect. Currently, my blog’s newsletter, so long in the making, seems to have reached colossal importance and isn’t possibly impressive enough to send out as I haven’t reached any answers to world peace. Perfectionists unite.
But recently, I noticed I’ve found a way around myself. I’ve begun to not make lists and just do the stuff anyway. Say what? And with this method, I tackled a huge old To Do today. I mean a whomping hangover To Do from 6 months ago that I’d given up on myself for. And found such solace and clarity in doing so.I cleaned up my craft room. Because I know I can not create well with even the underlayer of chaos unattended to from long ago. Something about combing through and reacquainting myself with my former chaos that helps to move me forward amd gain clarity. And moving forward looks like me talking Etsy shop. Creating stuff and taking pictures that feel impressive to me doesn’t happen in a space that has layers of abandoned unattended unorganized stuff at my feet. Bad mogambo you know.
All that effort was a choice. I had a blog post to write. I could have gotten a head start on Sunday dinner. But I stayed the course. I sorted through and thought about and re-boxed everything that was there. And I did it all in silence. Half because the baby was sleeping across the hall, and half because the time seems to slip by more slowly when there’s silence.
I feel super. The random work assignment payed off. The job was pretty well done. The Fiona chandelier was finished. And for the unplanned scrubbing circles I made today, I feel like I actually cleaned a substantial part of the floor. Yay Me.
Feb 6, 2015
I saw my dear friend Janet. She looked tired, older, sad. Where there is always a light shining from her, it was dark. I asked how she’d been and she told me she’d lost her dear friend and companion Toby. And I said, “I’m so sorry”, I hadn’t known. I would have shown up, sent a card.
Toby was her furry four-legged friend. He was her daily purpose, her constant companion after her children had flown from the nest. And he had been suffering from a cancer that eventually caused a suffering which she was compassionate enough to alleviate him from.
The veterinarians thanked me when I put my cat Butthead to sleep. He was drowning inside his own lungs from congestive heart failure which is what my father-in-law lost his battle with last May a year after Butthead. Miss Janet said she wished she could have been able to ease her own Mother’s suffering so long ago when she’d asked her to.
We stood there and contemplated why we were incapable to make those compassionate decisions when our loved ones are suffering. Either incapable of coming to terms with saying a final farewell to our dear pets to make a compassionate decision or having laws which will not permit us to euthanize human beings when they ask. We wish there were other ways, other choices besides the ones we are given. Because each of us will face these decisions. We’ll be confused and angry when we must. But we must.
I think, why would anyone get another pet after each and every one of our inevitable losses? But I know how incredible a pet’s selfless unconditional love feels. How almost unworthy we feel to have it bestowed upon us. Such bottomless trust, it makes us super-beings. And we recommit to this again and again knowing that, what we receive in the short time we are allowed to love them, is a whisper of infinity and transcendence and peace. That which we then gift back to them with our compassion at their life’s ending.
For the many broken hearts from lost loved ones I have learned of recently, I grieve for your loss too. And I know you are better for knowing them. There will never be another Toby, who liked very much to root through my purse in search of gum to steal, but there will be other lovers and friends to know. And I know Toby would approve.