Life Is Fragile

 Opening one blurry eye to check the time my equally blurry brain began sorting through things I have to do today. First I have to crawl out of this comfortable cocoon and get my diabetic dog out to pee, feed her breakfast and get that 7:15 am shot of insulin in her.

Then I have to feed and medicate the cats and other dog. Then I have to wash a load of pee pads because the aforementioned other dog is incontinent. Then I have to clean the cats’ water fountains and feeders.

 As all of these things fell into categories in my still sleepy head I opened the Facebook app on my phone. And the first post I saw was from a blogger I follow who fosters pregnant cats and nurtures their kittens until Mom and babies are ready for adoption. It is a site full of joy and laughter and cuteness overload.

 But not today.

 Without my glasses I wasn’t quite sure what I was reading but when this came into focus “I’m heartbroken to tell you that in the early morning hours, Natalie passed away… she left behind one tiny, perfect brown tabby boy” – I knew. Thousands of us follow this amazing foster Mama and now thousands of us are grieving. But I promise you none so deeply as she is this morning.

 Life is so fragile…

 So after a few tears I realized – I don’t “have to” take my diabetic dog outside, feed her breakfast and give her that morning insulin jab. I get to.

 I don’t “have to” feed and medicate my other pets. I get to.

 I don’t “have to” wash the pee pads, clean the water fountains and feeders. I get to.

 Each day none of that is guaranteed. One day the diabetic dog will no longer need her insulin. One day there won’t be a clowder of cats to care for. One day the pee pads that I curse every morning won’t be necessary.

 

It sounds so trite, but it is so true. 

This thing we call life? It really is fragile. 

And we really do need to handle it with care.  

The End of an Era

A-choo's passing a week ago was the end of an era...  All the animals my husband and I have adopted together in the first 20 years of our marriage are gone.  Ames, the cat, died 7 years ago at the age of 15.  Simba the dog passed last September at the age of 16. And now A-choo has left us, 21.5 years later...

She went out as she lived - independent and on her own terms. She died in the middle of the night while we were sleeping.

I can't say we were surprised to wake and find her gone, but of course we mourned her.  Living to the ripe old age of 21.5 she was a big part of our life together. We adopted her from the Denver Dumb Friends League in 1992 when she was 10 months old. 

Suffice it to say, she was a charmer from the beginning. Why "A-choo" you may ask. When we first met her in one of the little visitation rooms at the shelter she was all over us - sweet and loving and cuddly as could be. But she sneezed. A lot. It was kind of cute. So we dubbed her A-choo. And she came home to join her big "brother" Ames. 

As I said - she was independent. So once secure that she was in her forever home (who knew it would be 21.5 years forever) the desire to cuddle lessened and she took on her role as aloof A-choo. We loved her all the more for her distinct personality and catittude! When we hugged her and she squirmed to get away we told her she need 2 minutes of "forced affection." She always let us do it.

She liked popcorn and would give you those eyes when she wanted some. (Only the puffy part so she wouldn't choke, though.)

She took catittude to new levels. 

She was silly

and she liked a good party.

And a good box.

She was beautiful. Not in an ordinary cat kind of way. She was really beautiful.

I will remember her as playful and silly and funny and mischievous. 

But mostly I will remember her as thoughtful, wise and special.

She was so special...

Rest in peace, 'Choosey. You will be in our hearts forever.

Roll the Dice

So I don't know if its this relentless winter (which brings on cabin fever and I know so many of you can relate...) or I feel I'm missing the passion I usually have for my projects... Or is it the [I think] really sweet thing Facebook did today. In celebrating 10 years of Facebook they did a little video - music and everything - of your personal timeline with your first updates, most liked posts and photos thru your years on Facebook.  

Or if it is an interview I read with Maria Shriver where she quoted a commencement speech she gave awhile back (and I'm paraphrasing):

"Take time to recognize the power of pause -- the importance of stopping and evaluating where you are in life."

She went on to say that sometimes people will say to her, "Remember that?" and she will think "I don't. I was too busy."  

She commented how important it is to slow your life down and find out if you are actually living the life you are meant to live. It's your job to know who you are, to know your value, your mission and what makes you happy so you know what you're supposed to be doing here.  

All of this compounded one upon the other today and it was like a huge wake-up call. Or at least a sit-down-and-really-think-about-this call.

As I stated in a prior post, this isn't exactly a new thought for me. Five years in business, 40 years in Colorado, 21 years married and turning 60 - 2014 is a thought-provoking year.

I shared with my Mister last night that I'm going to take time to think, reflect, evaluate and look to the future. We both have aging parents who need our help. Granted my Mom is 750 miles away but if she needs me I'll be there in a heartbeat. His parents are local and there is more I could be doing for them.

Aging - gez, we have our own aging cat who at almost 21 years old sure could use some more of my love and attention. Oh, A-choo...

And although Kizzie is a very good little girl, I sometimes forget that she isn't a puppy - she will be 6 years old in April. She won't be here forever and I want to enjoy every minute I can with her.

She came into our lives a mere 4 months ago. I regret that I didn't know her sooner so I could have loved her longer. I have said the same about my husband; I didn't meet him until I was 35...

And yes, as I stare down 60 I am aging, too. I find myself really questioning ~ what is my mission?

When I watched my little Facebook Timeline video I was struck by how, with the exception of one, my top-ranking "liked" posts were work-related; as were almost all of my photographs. That was an eye-opener. A friend joked that this was my Jacob Marley moment. I laughed, but thought ~ whoa, he may have something there...

I'm married to a guy who works hard, works a lot and enjoys what he does. So I work hard, I work a lot and - for the most part - enjoy what I do. But I see how work has taken over my life. And even though I created this "monster" there really is more I want to do.

I just have to figure out what that is exactly and channel it. And get this pervasive thought that I must always be productive out of my fricking head.

I get one roll of the dice. 

We all get one roll of the dice. We owe it to ourselves to make it a good one. It's all a crap shoot ~ but I think we can chant our lucky chants, kiss the die and guide them down the table a little...

Re-entry.

Yesterday I took my first walk in the park since Simba has passed. In the past few months she wasn't up to the mile long walks ~ wasn't really up to walking much past the mailbox a couple of blocks away. So I although I missed her on those walks, I always knew she was waiting at home for me. 

So walking yesterday - knowing that she wasn't waiting at home for me - weighed heavily on me.  I had my Canon and shot the sun as it was coming up

and caught the Canada geese and other migrating birds as they flew overhead

I gave creativity and a rubber duckie photo shoot a shot

but ultimately I just didn't have it in me. I wasn't feeling it.

I was missing my buddy.

It will be awhile before we are ready to bring another dog into our family. Simba is still here at every turn. But a friend made a really good suggestion ~ volunteer at a local shelter/rescue for awhile. It will give me the connection I need with dogs and brighten the days of a few lonely pups. Of course, my problem right now is time; but it is something I intend to do. I never thought I could ~ knowing that the dog I walked yesterday may not be there tomorrow; but another wonderful friend once told me, "I know it would be hard, but think of the joy you gave that dog for even one day."

Today started out as my favorite kind of day

cloudy and cool.

Time for tea (especially the Chinese kind that is supposed to lower blood pressure)

And the day stayed cloudy and cool. I don't like summer heat and I love Autumn and I love days like this. As much as I'm still mourning, it was time to get back to work. So I filled Etsy orders

and worked on shop orders.

In between I did a few loads of laundry. And in doing so, came across the shirt The Mister was wearing the day we said goodbye to Simba. It was covered in her fur. I held it close, I cried, I inhaled her scent, I cried some more ~

and then I let it go.  

I thought I heard her raspy breathing this afternoon ~ the breathing I used to hear from the bed behind my desk.

A-choo the Cat has been acting weird all day. It's almost like she sees Simba and Simba is taunting her like she loved to do.

We are receiving cards full of sympathy and love from friends - actual snail mail cards. Family members are donating to shelters in Simba's name. It's overwhelming. And lovely. And makes me cry.

Who knew one little 35 lb. ball of fur could touch so many lives? She was one of a kind, our girl. And her legacy will live on.  I love you, Boo.

58 years, 8 months and 29 days ~ or there abouts

I'll be turning 59 in a couple of months and when the early morning hours nudged me awake a bit ago, I laid in bed and thought about that for awhile. 

When I started this blog and decided to call it "Walking on the Edge of the Knife" it was because I had recently visited an inspirational Georgia O'Keefe exhibit at the Denver Art Museum. Little did I know how prophetic that phrase would turn out to be...

My 58th year has been unlike any other. There have been rewarding, challenging, surprising, exhausting, happy and fun times ~ both professionally and personally.  Some of it I can talk about; some I can't.  Mixed in have been days of sadness, days of fear, days of confusion. Some of it I can talk about; some I can't.  

Probably the same could be said of any life.  Everyone's life is a mixture of good and... not so good.  The thing I am seeing, though, looking down the road into my 6th decade is ~ everything has an expiration date.  Everything. 

My youthful sense of immortality no longer exists and I am left with these questions: How do I make the most of what I have left?  How do I come to terms with what The Universe has brought me? How do I make the world a better place for others and at the same time, make my days personally fulfilling?

My daily calendar pops up on my screen and along with my usual reminders to pay this bill, make this appointment is a reminder that our Anniversary is in 6 days. 

20 years... don't they go by in a blink...

And there's the reminder to call my doctor to follow up on some things. Things that weren't even on my radar a year ago are now daily thoughts.

And the reminder that every day is Christmas in the studio now - get crackin'. I don't have as many 3 am anxiety attacks over my work as I used to. I've settled into a comfortable routine ~ a nice repertoire with my shop owners and customers. I've become more organized and more efficient so my stress level isn't where it used to be when it comes to my Whee Ones (and holiday time in particular). But still ~ Christmas is in, like, three days. At least in my head.   

Call Mom - as I usually do on Thursdays.

I don't see my Mom often ~ she's in Iowa and I'm in Colorado. I will see her in a couple of weeks to celebrate with her as she turns 95. And I am left wondering ~ will it be her last birthday? Or will she be like her friend, Mildred, who at 102 just recently gave up living independently and moved into an assisted living facility.

One thing I don't need to see on my calendar, because it is in my mind constantly is ~ check on Simba.  

At age 16 and a couple of weeks we have seen a steady decline in our girl's health in the past few days and we know her time with us is growing short. And it is breaking our hearts. Of course it is a fact that most humans outlive their pets. But it doesn't make it any easier to accept.

Everything ~ everyone ~ has an expiration date.

And no amount of love can change that.

Counting Chickens

So yeah. If you're my Facebook friend (and I can't really imagine anyone who reads this that isn't) you know that I had good news yesterday (finally) re: the biopsy I had eight days ago.  Emotions were running high in my house - first because I had to wait seven days to get the results due to some major miscommunication between my doctor's office and me - and then pure joy because the biopsy results were good.  I finally got the good word (no malignancies, no Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma in that nodule) from the clinic where the biopsy took place so it was a mixture of happiness and frustration.

When I finally did speak to my regular nurse this morning I learned that perhaps my joyous celebration may have been just a tad premature. Yes the biopsy results were good. However there are still things going on in my neck (other than holding my head up) that need monitoring. There will be more tests and Specialists. So maybe I was a little naïve to think the saga was over. 

So there ya' go. Don't count chickens and put carts ahead of horses and all that.

That being said, I can't live my life waiting for the other shoe to drop (I'm just full of cliches tonight, aren't I?). Because the shoe will either stay on my foot or drop.

So back to work, back to life.  I've friends to meet, shows to see, laughter to laugh, Whee Ones to create and Christmas is in three days.

Wait For It. Wait For It...

Waiting for answers...  

What Balance?

My life is in transition now.  For the first time in 36.5 years I find myself with no children living in fairly close proximity.  They are both in other states. And although I am happy for them and wish them all happiness, love and adventures ~~ it's a little weird for me.

Couple that with the fact that for about eight months now (not discounting the 3.5 years prior to that - but the last eight have been intense) I have been going 100 mph with my work and I feel burnout coming.

Finding balance is impossible for me. Because I've always prided myself on my drive to succeed, my work ethic, my ambition and my dedication to customer service (individuals and shops I work with).  I don't know how to do anything halfway.

So, yeah.  That's pretty much me.   Because I also do this

So this new phase of my life ~ the true "empty nester" phase ~ which shouldn't really feel that much different because we haven't had a child actually living with us for over 15 years ~ does feel different.

And I find myself thinking this more and more...

Now if I could just turn off the voices from my childhood telling me to "always be productive." 

A Salute to Sunday Mornings

One of the longest running television shows on air today is CBS Sunday Morning  It first aired on January 28, 1979 and I've been watching ever since.  I tune in on Sunday mornings at 8 am knowing I will learn something and be delightfully entertained.  I love the things they find to share with us ~ obscure and interesting people in the world of art and music, a famous person thrown in here and there, as well as some plain and simple funny stuff. There are a fair share of serious reports as well; but I have to admit it is the cultural segments that really wow me.

For instance ~ yesterday I learned what plants know

I enjoyed an interview with one of my favorite guys Alan Alda which really touched on something I wrote about just yesterday.  I was talking about technology and how we should never assume people know what we're talking about.  Alan Alda is saying the same thing about science and scientists.  Those folks are so smart (I know a few personally - and yowza - are they smart) ~ but science is a language unto itself.  So when, say, scientists go to Capitol Hill to testify and try to solicit funding for research, most of the people they are talking to don't have a clue what they are saying. Which doesn't make congress people really anxious to give them money.

So Professor Alda is teaching scientists how to relate to the lay person so they can understand.  Not to dumb it down - just to make things more relatable.  

I have observed my mister doing that when speaking IT with clients.  He talks in terms that they can understand - not to demean or insult them; but just so they can relate.

(Working in the IT field does have it's advantages.  And disadvantages.)

And finally I can usually count on something in a CBS Sunday Morning broadcast to touch my heart.  Especially in light of the tragedies last week with the Boston Marathon bombing and the explosion in West, Texas a story on dealing with regret made us think about how life can change on a dime.  And how important it is to let our loved ones know each day how precious they are.

It prompted the mister to walk up to me with a hug and say, "I'm sorry we had a disagreement on Friday."  (Wait. Here's a tissue for ya')

So if you've never caught the program grab a cuppa' and tune in some Sunday  morning.  I think you will enjoy. :)