Paws, and reflect...

it would be the ultimate sin of a writer searching for greatness...to sprinkle cliches into a piece...but such is the sin of grief, and I sprinkle this freely...my cat, Donut, passed away yesterday...he was 15, would have been 16 this May...and he was adopted at the age of 5 months from a shelter...and so goes the expression we attribute to all rescue pets...did we rescue Donut, or did he rescue us?...I do remember vividly how painfully nervous he was when we brought him home...until I set the table for dinner that first night, and without hesitation, he hopped onto our fourth chair...so, this was the way it's going to be, I thought inside...much like a story Lauren wrote in elementary school...Donut was our "human cat"...as we poured over old photos last night, I had to smile...remembering the antics of kittenhood...and one episode in particular...an episode of "Friends" on our television...Joey and Chandler at the foosball table...Donut's emerald eyes zeroing in...and the high jump against the screen, paws attacking that foosball table in earnest...ironically, repeats of "Friends" late at night would be his joy, burrowing into his blanket on Lauren's bed...a strange affection for Matt LeBlanc's voice...which prompted us to call him at 11pm..."Donut, the Joey show is on"...he endured so many health issues...which has prompted me to attribute 99 lives to his story...and when it seemed his time on the 16th...he defied all odds and was home the next day...allowing us another week with our furry boy...part of me will always think he did this for us...struggled so hard to repay the love we showered on him all those years...I don't know how I feel about this "Rainbow Bridge"...but I'll tell you what I do know...when my Donut passed to a better place...and saw all those beautiful cats and dogs and other pets...he probably said, "no way"...and detoured through another door...where he would be welcomed by my Dad, who never got to meet him...my Dad would say, "Donut, that wasn't very nice of you to scratch your Grandma like that!"...and Donut would smile, and tilt his head and stare back...and Dad's frown would turn upwards...a warm smile...then he'd pet Donut's head and say..."We've got some catching up to do...but first...a tuna sandwich"...

Guns and roses...

World Trade Center, 1993...Oklahoma City, 1995...Columbine, 1999...9/11 2001...Sandy Hook, 2012...and last week, Parkland...Valentine's Day...Ash Wednesday...literally, ashes to ashes...this blog is not a line in the sand...that has been drawn most eloquently by hollow-eyed teenagers bloodily thrust into adulthood in Florida last week...this blog is more a reflection and genuine pause in despair...how does this country overcome our collective PTSD inflicted by tragedy after tragedy?...because all responses...the ones I carry deep in my heart on one side...and the ones I often cannot fathom on the other...are both generated by a deep sense of fear and rage and hopelessness...for every technological advance since that first WTC attack, we have regressed as a people...technological advances have slowly but surely erased genuine human interaction...so, we use generalized terms...our mission du jour is to eradicate bullying...you do realize as each of you reads this...perhaps from my Facebook post...that for all of you with children in school, or who have graduated out...while some of you may have witnessed the cruelty of bullying in the new social media age...your children, or relatives...some of you have also been parents to the bully...it's statistics...I've watched school districts pat themselves on the back for their bullying programs and assemblies...yet, I know how they mishandled and backed off from putting teeth into platitudes for years...we do not really appreciate, nor do we want to, the deteriorating mental health of our youth...we do not understand the depth of hurt to be hung out to dry on social media platforms...we can't if we did not grow up with it...if we are not part of generation "thunder thumb"...but we do despair of it...so how do we move forward?....disarming the dangerous is a no-brainer...at least in my brain...I don't want to take away your gun...but current laws and restrictions are not working and it's time for Washington to roll up it's shirt sleeves and work quickly...and then...and then...Parkland...we really need to look how this young man got so far-gone...how each arm of the adult community failed him...this is painful...this is not easy...it's time to put the phones down a little...to realize that the most perfect rose has thorns...and get to work...

one flu over the cuckoo's nest...

but February made me shiver...no, it really made me shiver...last week, Michael called me from work and said, casually, between the "hold on" and "what's for dinner?", that his throat hurt...I thought...hmmm...when he came through the door, I thought somewhere deep inside...oh, shit...dry cough, fever...next day he went to the doctor...came home and said the ugliest word in the English language...flu...he was banned to the bedroom...I ran around with Lysol, wipes, and did laundry like a crazy person...but two days later, coughing like Mimi in "La Boheme" I made a pilgrimage to the Urgent Care...bronchitis...within days Lauren was down for the count...my life has consisted of doling out meds...which are hard to come by...every pharmacy is out or running low...I've noticed a little panic in the eyes of pharmacists...flu...it seems to be the only story on the news...which is what I've been told...I haven't made the eleven o'clock news in days...too tired to stay awake or give a shit...too depressing...all these meds make for restless sleep...and crazy dreams...like I swear that I heard about 45 asking for parades...and tanks...and adoration...and I drifted back to sleep...where I see money being tossed out of windows...windows of a very big white house...I think the street address is Pennsylvania-something...but the money never reaches the ground...where there are many homeless men...veterans...but back at the windows everyone is eating Napoleons...and the music is blaring...it is catchy...very Broadway...this should be a hit, I think...Matthew Broderick and Nathan Lane are crooning me to sleep in top hats and tux...ah yes, "Springtime for Hitler"...but, it's all a medicinal dream, right?...gotta go read those Tamiflu side effects again...