How Do You Know?

I wrote several months back about my dog who had been very sick. We thought she had cancer, and it turned out she had a diseased kidney. Still does. But after some treatment she bounced back a bit. We went from a couple of weeks sobbing daily over what we thought was our dying dog, to feeling blessed that she bounced back most of the way and was seeming like herself again. She was not young for a dog, and the kidney was still bad, but she was energetic again and eating regularly. All the happiness however, we knew was on borrowed time. We knew every additional day we had left with Lacey was bonus time. She was never going to completely recover long-term, especially without removing her bad kidney. Based on those horrible weeks and Lacey's reactions to the procedures she had already experienced, combined with a low likelihood she would be healthy even afterward, we elected not to have her kidney removed. We decided as a family, as long as she was comfortable and happy, we would spoil her and enjoy our time with her until she seemed to suffer discomfort or take a turn for the worse. At that time we would bring her in and let go of her peacefully. The thought of her being in pain, or dying traumatically in our home were scenarios we couldn't bear.

We've had a great couple of months. But recently Lacey's condition has been questionable. She's slowing down considerably, not eating all that regularly, and can no longer make it the full distance on our daily walks. She can jump up on the bed but is hesitant to jump down. She still wags her tail and comes to the kitchen to beg, and those are both good signs. It's becoming more and more difficult to know what's right. Another trip to the vet is likely to yield a list of things the doctor wants to do, surgeries, procedures, etc. We know from last time it would just stress her out. So we're left with our gut instinct. We are left with trying to make the best of the time left, and knowing when it's time to say goodbye. When you love your pet this much, how do you know?

  

Sometimes

Sometimes there's nothing in you
You choose not to hold the pen
but instead your loved ones.

Sometimes you feel grounded
You are centered and present in your practice
and you're smacked right out of your moment.

Sometimes there are things more important
You choose not to write
but instead to mourn in somber silence.

Sometimes.

My Quirky Little Family of Three

There's never really been a shortage of conversation in my home. My husband and I have a talking relationship. We discuss current events, our jobs, and all aspects of our child rearing. Years ago, I recall my best friend from high school telling me how cool she thought it was that Paul and I talk about stuff. She said she and her husband never had the kinds of conversations we did. I never thought much of it, because it's all I've ever known. As our son turned a year, we worried little about his ability to talk, and were more focused on him being able to hold his chubby little body up to walk. He was a late walker and an early talker, and he hasn't shut up since! I say this lovingly in acknowledgement of his gift for gab. And might I say, at seventeen he doesn't just talk to hear himself, he loves debate and philosophy.

Yesterday my husband, son, and I set out in the car to meet up with my brother-in-law, his fiancé, and the kids for the day. We had a good thirty minute car ride, and had I recorded our conversations, I'm curious what others would think. The topics got more intense from one to the next...

Our first exchange was a debate- them against me. I had made a statement about an idea I had in the shower that morning, and I wanted to jot it in my notebook. When I initially spoke the sentence, I realized it wasn't grammatically correct. However I stated it, it sounded like I was going to be writing in the shower. I giggled and corrected the statement aloud. Then, somehow I started talking about how I could be writing in the shower- in my head. One of the smart asses, can't remember which one, says, "Then it wouldn't be writing. It would be thinking." This sparked a healthy debate about whether a writer is actually writing, if they are not engaged in the act of putting the words on paper. We went through various verbs and scenarios such as a writer who uses a keyboard- "No," they said. "Then it's typing." I insisted they were wrong. A writer is anyone who creates a piece of writing, no matter how they engage in the task. They disagreed.

I asked them then, "How do you distinguish between the physical act of writing words with the act of creating a piece of writing?" They didn't seem to think there needed to be a distinction. We bounced around the words publish and create when I asked them how you would refer collectively to all kinds of people who write on keyboard, with a pen, spoken word poetry, etc. All of this had us in stitches, while they tried to trip me up as I danced around explanations of why I disagreed with them. "Obviously," I said, "You are not writing people." And we laughed some more. All we could agree on was that all of these people were creators. My son tried to argue they were publishers as well, but I disagreed arguing if the creation never makes it out of a person's mind, it's not published. They both insisted in that case, no writing had been done either. We laughed all the way into the next topic of conversation.

Graphic of Dyson Sphere- Credit: SentientDevelopments.com

Not sure why it was on his mind, but the conversation moved to my son asking us if we ever heard of Dyson sphere theory? You can read about it on your own, but in a nutshell it's the idea of creating a sphere around a planet's star to harness the energy for a civilization. Yes, my son reads this stuff for pleasure and curiosity. Neither my husband, nor I, had ever heard of a Dyson, other than the vacuum cleaner guy. Nope, wrong Dyson. This Dyson theorized if we searched for the existence of this type of structure, we might find evidence of advanced civilizations elsewhere in the galaxy. You guessed it. This all led to the discussion about whether we believed in alien life forms, and if so, whether or not we believed they had ever infiltrated our life here on Earth. Ideas were exchanged about the possibility of other life forms living here before humans ever evolved and possible explanation for structures and occurrences on Earth that are seemingly impossible to explain. Finally, as we got close to our destination, the Big Bang and G-d.

If you are easily offended by parents who believe in G-d, discussing with their children the possibility that G-d doesn't exist in the traditional form as taught in the major world religions, just move on. You'll want to stop here. Things got complex as we discussed our understanding of G-d as we were raised, and other ideas about how G-d may exist differently. We talked about aspects of Evolution and the Big Bang Theory. We tried to consider how different theories about human beings and other possible life forms could be explained and we agreed about a modern understanding of G-d. We talked about the commonly used phrase, "I'm a G-d-fearing man/woman," and why anyone would fear their G-d. We agreed G-d (no matter your religion or beliefs) wouldn't want people to fear G-d. By the time we reached our destination, my mind was blown. We covered more in the 30-40 minutes than many college philosophy classes cover in a session. And before we got out of the car, I asked both of them, "Do you think other families talk about stuff like this?" My son laughed and said, "No way." We looked at each other and laughed. Then we went and rode go-karts and played mini golf.

All in a day. I love my little quirky family of three.
 

Simple Things I Love

I love when we're at a Mexican restaurant and my son won't eat the guacamole because he insists it can't be as good as mine.

I love when my son and my husband laugh at a joke between them that I think is stupid.

I love when my son crawls in the dog's bed to cuddle with her.

I love when my husband surprises me with little practical things, like a new ergonomic can opener for my hands that are developing arthritis.

I love when my husband is holding the leash, but my dog will only sit for me.

I love when my son says, "I have a song I want to play for you."

I love when someone posts an old family photo.

I love when my best friend calls to tell me I'm her best friend (she really did that the other night).

I love when my sister sends me silly little Valentine's Day presents like straws with hearts on them.

I love when my mom calls me "baby" in her high pitched cutesy voice.

I love when I can end my really exhausting week by thinking of special people I love and the things they do to make me feel grateful.

    These are the straws my sister sent me. ❤️

I Want to Ride My Bicycle*

Every time I get on my bike, I feel like kicking myself for not getting on it more often. I simply love biking. Today on my way home from work I decided to ditch my plan to go workout at the gym, and instead come home and ride my bike. And that's exactly what I did. Despite the overcast whiteness of a hazy and cool (not cold) winter evening, I thoroughly enjoyed my ride. Besides the fact I always feel better after I have exercised, biking comes with an added benefit. Rather than tune out everything at the gym by blasting music in my earbuds, when I bike, I unplug and become in tuned to everything. For safety, I have never worn earbuds while I ride my bike. This allows me to leave everything (including by phone) at home and ride free of noise. Instead, I am mindful of my thoughts and everything going on around me. I actually find myself writing in my head while I'm riding around. Can you imagine? Other than the shower, or carved out sacred writing time, there is no place or activity that allows me such solitude and oneness with my thoughts. It's funny, one of my friends posted something on FB today about the difference between aloneness and solitude, the first having negative sad connotation, the latter a "gift" we give to ourselves. My bike ride today was a gift of solitude and mindfulness.


Biking on Through

The wind is in my face
I am riding alone
Cheeks flushed
Eyes watering
I can feel my smile

I'm at my own pace
I am riding alone
Senses heightened
Legs pumping
I can feel my heart

The birds are chirping
and the trees are swaying
School is out and it is not yet dark
So the streets are sprinkled with people

On a cul de sac a mom sits in a chair
at the end of the driveway
watching her little ones play in the street
"Hi!" the little boy shouts like we are friends

"Hi!" I shout back as I ride away
watching the leaves skipping along
tiptoeing in the wind
barely touching the street

On the next block a man is walking his dog
They are moving briskly and he smiles
As I ride by I hear him say to the dog
"Good boy, you're a good boy."

In one garage I see two classic cars
One is a VW Beetle convertible
candy apple red with a black ragtop.
My husband would love it

In another garage I see a neighbor
I smile and wave like all friendly people
As I ride by I notice it wasn't my neighbor
It was a mannequin. Oh my!

Just as I round the corner,
A boy is walking his little sister home
He seems to be a good big brother
He is holding her hand

Down the street a ways
Three generations playing together
a giant bouncy ball and four dogs
It is a family circus!

Near my house a woman is jogging,
sort of- she's talking on the phone,
barely getting her feet off the ground
I am glad I left my phone behind.

The wind is in my face
I am riding alone
Cheeks flushed
Eyes watering
I can feel my smile

I'm at my own pace
I am riding alone
Senses heightened
Legs pumping
I can feel my heart


*Just because it goes so well and it's an all-time favorite: