"There are no good-byes, where ever you'll be, you'll be in my heart." – Ghandi

I'm contemplating goodbyes today.

There are several ways to say goodbye.  So long.  Farewell. Godspeed. Adios. Cheerio. See ya later, alligator. Until we meet again. Aloha. Shalom. Bye-bye. Ciao. Adieu.

It all means the same thing.  We are parting.  The duration of our separation may be hours, days, years, or a lifetime and we may be either glad or sorrowful for it, but it means we will have to do with out someone or something.

I am thinking about goodbyes today because I have one looming in front of me. My dear cousin, Lisa, is about to say goodbye.  Lisa has been battling cancer for three years.  She was diagnosed while she was still breastfeeding her second child.  The lump she thought was a clogged milk duct proved to be something much more.  Once given the diagnosis, she was proactive.  She had surgery to cut away the malignancy, chemo to kill the cells, she ate healthy and exercised...but this didn't stop the enemy from moving  and regrouping in her body.  

http://ww5.komen.org/

The cancer took up residency in her brain.  More surgery, more chemo, more sickness and stress.  Still she fought.  She fought for her children, her husband, and all the other people out there going through the same daily battle.  Some days were good and some days were not.  

She got good news, the tumors were shrinking, and no signs of regrowth. It seemed as if she would beat the odds and kick the butt of this disease.  We were all hopeful that she would be in that 83% survival rate.  Then came a second report.  The cancer caused tumors weren't growing in the brain because they had found another part of the body to lay siege to.  Her spine.  The survival rate dropped to 23%.  But she held on to that percentage.
  
Still more chemo, nausea, weakness, deterioration of the body...but not the soul.  Through all the trials and tribulations, she kept her faith.  She prayed that she would be be deemed worthy enough to be granted a reprieve from the disease, but if she couldn't beat it she knew she would find consolation in the arms of God.  I envy that strength of conviction.  

Through it all, there have been tears and laughter,  curses and praise, let downs and joyous moments.  I will weep when she goes.  Not for her, she has her path planned and it is a comfort for her and her family.  I will weep for me; that although tied by blood and shared memories, I hardly knew her. I will weep for her children who will have a empty space in their future life that she would fit in so perfectly.   I will weep for her husband, who was blessed with her love for all too short a time.  I will weep for the hundreds and thousands of people who will never get the chance to hear her laugh, see her smile, or feel her caring hands.

I hope we will meet again.  Until then, she will have a spot to call home in my heart.

 

“Owners of dogs will have noticed that, if you provide them with food and water and shelter and affection, they will think you are god. Whereas owners of cats are compelled to realize that, if you provide them with food and water and shelter and affection, they draw the conclusion that they are gods.” ― Christopher Hitchens

I've owned (or been owned by) both cats and dogs.  The bond between a pet and it's owner is a special one that can give one's life meaning and purpose; for many, it may even rival the bond they feel for another human being.

Currently I share my home with a Rat Terrier named Libby.  She came into our lives nearly three years ago via an organization called CAP ( Citizens for Animal Protection ) here in Houston.  To be honest, she was not my first choice.  I passed by her with out a second glance.  It was my son and husband who decided to take her for a walk, to take her for a test drive so to speak. I stood by the cage door while they went to get an attendant to take her out.

My heart melted.  Shaking uncontrollably in her little bin, longing to get out and away from the overwhelming multitude of canine voices was a skinny, young dog with ears back and eyes bulging.  We decided to make the commitment and adopt her, to make her a part of our family.

We brought her into our home, gave her "food and water and shelter and affection" and her love and gratitude was overwhelming.  It is quite an ego boost to have someone look at you with such adoration.  When I'm sad or upset, she is there to comfort me and lick away any tears that might fall.  She greats me at the door when I come home with back flips and her frantically wagging stump of a tail.  I truly fill like I am a god in her eyes... but that comes with a heavy price.

A pet is truly a commitment for life.   They are dependent upon you for those essentials: food, water, shelter and affection. That is the very minimum that you are responsible for, but beyond that there is health care, recreation and exercise needs, and consideration for their care should you decide to vacation.  In many ways they are the eternal two year old, dependent on their care givers for so much.  One shouldn't get a pet on a whim.  Bunnies are cute, but the grow into large rabbits that can live for 8-12 years.  Cats can lounge about for 12 to 18 years.  Not as cuddly, snakes can hang around 10-15 years.  That bird in a cage (gilded or not) can live anywhere from 10 to 80 plus years dependent on the species. And don't get me started on turtles & tortoises, they can conceivably outlive you.

Sharing you life with a pet is infinitely rewarding, but your ego shouldn't be the first consideration in making this decision.  You are accepting the care for another living being, one with physical and emotional needs to match your own.  Are you up for the challenge?

 Be the person your dog thinks you are.

Please consider adoption.....

http://www.cap4pets.org/

If you get thrown from a horse, you have to get up and get back on, unless you landed on a cactus; then you have to roll around and scream in pain.~ unknown

Wow. Has it really been over a year since I posted anything here?  I'd love to tell you that I was too busy writing the great American Novel, had been traveling the world and experiencing the great wonders, or perhaps returned to my former and still unrequited love of the stage.  I'd love to tell you these things, but the truth is I have been doing ....nothing.

Sure, I've been working more and have taken on added responsibilities at my job. I have a new car, a new computer, and new credit cards......and the monthly payments that come with these new things keeps me running on that hamster wheel.  When I come home, I just want to numb my mind. So I play games, stumble on the Internet, and watch bad television.  It worked perfectly.  I've been completely numbed for over a year.

I fell off the horse and just laid there.

Part of what threw me was a dissatisfaction with the outcome of my larger writing projects.  I started one story, then began another, then got side tracked on a third, then went back to an even older project, then lost 50% of all my work in a computer crash.

I was fed up.  Tired of treading water and not getting anywhere.  But lately, in one of those late night conversations with my husband, I came to realize something.  It is time to finally get up, dust myself off and get back up on that horse.

My problem was in thinking too big.  I needed to focus on short term goals. One story at a time.  One foot in front of the other in a steady path. This is the way to move forward, a slow methodical push and not a spastic dash from one side to the next.

So here we go.  Back on the horse and plodding forward at a steady pace. No whooping and hollering, no spurs digging in, and no rearing back and waving my hat in the air one handed.  I intend on staying one this horse until I cross that finish line.  "Giddy-Up."