Friday, February 24

gratitudes and inclusions


Hold on, buckle in. This is messier than I intended. But I’m going for it. See you on the other side…

*

Monday, February 20

rituals of grief


I mentioned on Saturday afternoon that Lylune, beloved kitty of my beloved, Gena, was very sick. In the space of a week she had shed a third of her body weight, stopped eating and drinking. Gena had her in to the Vet on Friday and they could only speculate – renal failure or cancer - probably, considering the rapidity and the symptoms - cancer. They hydrated her, filled her full of electrolytes and nutrients and drugs to try to get her kidneys working again, and that was about all they could do. 

“If she responds,” the Vet told Gena, “we’ll talk about treatment options on Monday."

But she didn’t respond. She was in less distress thanks to the IV, but she never got her groove back, not to mention her appetite, and she passed away quietly on Saturday evening.

the most delicate paw in the history of paws

Saturday, February 18

learning to miss


I have only a little time today. Forgive me if this seems a bit abrupt, but Gena’s tiny, delicate, beautiful kitty Lylune is really sick. This is stolen time right here, and there are priorities to attend to. And yet, I have to put some thoughts down. It's a precious responsibility - to catch the thoughts, the moments, before they pass.

Wednesday, February 15

the long ones


There are days, with dementia, when good memories abound. When I visit Mom, almost all of the time, that’s the case. We're very lucky so far. She doesn’t put together my visits into any kind of continuum very well, so every Monday and Friday the visits seems a bit like a treat – like I haven’t been around for a long time – and the good will ensues (there is a lesson to learn in this, I think). Lots of love, lots of nice memories, smiles, laughs.

But not always.

Saturday, February 11

yoga conundrums


I’ve been trying to figure out how to write something about yoga without sounding completely fucking pretentious. I’m hoping that being unnecessarily vulgar will help. Only that once though. Maybe.

Yoga’s one of those things that I’ve done for a while as a sideline, intermittently as it were, and as a means to an end. The “end” has been improved flexibility for climbing, hockey, Aikido. That’s served a purpose to date, I suppose, but I’ve never really had the kind of breakthrough with my bad hip that I’ve dreamed about. So I’m trying to go a bit deeper, make yoga a focus, and end in itself.

This is one of those risk and reward things.

Monday, February 6

things i learn getting hurt


After not playing hockey all of last season, barely playing at all for the three before that, I pulled out my goalie gear last fall and started playing a few times a week. Three to be exact. I was out of shape, my legs felt like jelly after about 15 minutes that first ice time, but I remembered how much I love playing the first time the puck ended up in my glove.

Shocker., I know. That’s how it is when you love something.