Cattitude


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Coming to the end of 2013 when, not so long ago, it was the fresh new year. A lot has gone down and it will be one of my years to remember – for awhile, anyway. Good and bad, worthy and not so much so, 2013 will soon be in my books as a landmark year, one that says I will NEVER repeat this again. Ever. Never ever. And that is said with so much conviction I’m pretty convinced I’ll believe it until I don’t. Go ahead; you can laugh. Experience leads me to believe I know myself and, as frustrated, angry, and disappointed as I may be, I still believe, hope, and smile. There’s joy – always – somewhere, and the challenge is finding it. That much I know is positively true. And it gets me through.

Got a phone call tonight from someone dear to me. I was asked if I could be nonjudgmental and I agreed, and the torrent that followed would not be easy for most people to hear. I did, though, and I listened. I don’t believe that what a person does is always who that person is, necessarily; I just feel that circumstances dictate a lot of what we believe are choices. Indeed they are, but not the kind you make when you have options. Like a hungry family who welcomes food without asking why or how it came, knowing exactly that. Anyway. Tomorrow is a new day, bound to be better, not scheduled to be worse, and I take those as they come.

It snowed last night. In fact, it’s probably snowing now, which is okay with me – I like the stuff. The feline is not impressed. She’ll sit by the door with her very demanding attitude that suggests someone should open the door NOW, but once the crack widens and the frigid draft comes in, you see her little nostrils flare in and out and quickly there comes a cute little kitty-cat sneeze and a change of the mind. Naturally, we’re to blame for the weather. And that’s okay with me, too, Frida. You go right ahead and get all haughty and stalk away like you’re some queen; you’re all the entertainment we need when the chickadees and camp robbers are feeding outside the window – the very one whose sill you sit upon, separated from tasty avian morsels by triple-pane glass. We’d miss the entire show if you went outside.

Life around is good, and it’s usually a matter of perspective. I mean, if I had a full-thickness burn anywhere on my body, or if I stepped on a nail, I guess I wouldn’t be whistling some cheery tune but, for the most part, life really is pretty darn good. It’s worth living, worth really trying, striving, fighting for. And I hope the phone call I got, the glimmer of hope I heard, carries over into tomorrow, into that new day, because it’s worth it if you wake up and realize your eyes are open and you just took a breath. It could have been worse.

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3 thoughts on “Cattitude

  1. It’s nice that your friend feels comfortable using you as a sounding board. We all need someone we can talk to. I’m a little ( or a lot) less balanced than you in my overall view of life. When it’s good, it’s very good, but so often I see what’s wrong. These past five or six years have been especially difficult for me as I watch this country go in a tail spin and so many people seem to be ok with it. The times they are a changing, but I don’t like it one bit. By the time reality sets in I’m afraid it will be too late. I most definitely believe in the law of sewing and reaping, I just don’t think I should reap what others sew.

    • Oh, Tom. Life. Each of us owns our own little minutes, our own little pleasures and failures, choices and consequences. The rest will pass into history, as will we. Enjoy what presents itself and be happy in what you find. The rest is why we have strength, fellows, and hope.

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