We’ve all been there. Failure and success. Mostly failure. Right? Luckily we get those occasional victories. Feels good doesn’t it? But why don’t they come more frequently? Is it because we dream too big for our reality?
I guess society provides a smorgasbord of medications to distract and comfort us.
But what about those bases loaded home runs? The rare events in our lives that happen beyond anything we saw as possible. Everyone gets a few of these in their lifetime. Why only a few?
And with those few rare, big victories, there’s the reality of trying to find a humble, grateful way to celebrate those rare moments for as long and profoundly as possible.
Last week my husband and I faced the day every pet owner dreads. After consulting with the veterinarian and going over lab results, we made the decision to euthanize our elderly cat. Even though we knew it was the best decision for her, sparing her what would have amounted to few weeks of pain and suffering, it was still hard to sign those final papers. She was the last of the original 4 Persian show cats we had adopted after their breeder retired them from being shown. The maintenance for that breed of cat is something you cannot imagine until you bring one into your family. Although I can’t sat I will miss the work involved, I miss my cats. They were my husband’s physical therapy companions. They had witnessed and been part of over a decade of life in our home.
Since Krista died last week, I have heard some of the usual comments concerning pets. “They love us unconditionally.” “They always greet us when we come home, and they are happy to see us no matter what mood we’re in.” “My dog/cat doesn’t care if I gain weight or if I lose my hair or if I don’t have makeup on or if I wear something really stupid. They love me anyway.” “When I feel sad, my pet will instinctively stay by my side and comfort me.” “They make me feel better without having the ability so say a word.”
After hearing all of the well known statements about how our cats and/or dogs love us unconditionally and comfort us without question, it occurred to me: Isn’t that they way we should treat one another? Maybe we can learn a lesson in how to treat our loved ones simply by watching our pets.
We accumulate so much stuff. So many memories. Stuff we can’t dream of ever losing. Would life go on without those possessions?
I’d grab Jack the Bear, car keys, my cell phone (probably), my wallet (probably), my pocket camera (probably). There’s not much else that seems like it couldn’t be replaced. Nothing that I can think of right now anyway.
Jack the Bear is so ordinary that his priceless worth seems utterly impossible.
We’ve all been through the exercise: What possessions would you grab from your home if it was on fire and you had only a minute to decide, only one trip out, and only two hands? Let’s also assume your family could escape on their own. What would you grab?
We spent the weekend at Disney instead of going camping.Kids (especially great spellers) notice the coolest things, like misspellings.
Going through each day of our lives, we are presented with a multitude of free learning opportunities. I often wonder how many I miss and how others feel about this concept.
Yesterday in North Carolina, in complete casual conversation, I asked a stranger if he had any advice on raising boys, since his boy is almost 18. He said, “Communication“.
He pushed his son so hard in sports that his son started to pull away and retreat – while they we’re together. It was no longer fun for the boy to be with his Dad, during years 12-14.
