Rough Day

I knew I was due for a rough spell. The last seven days have been comparatively easy.

It came today. My arm got caught between my bed and the wall while I was trying to get dressed. I cried in pain. I couldn't find my socks or put on my shoes or tie the laces. I screamed every step of the way.

And finally, once I was dressed and dripping with sweat from the effort, I gave voice to my real pain. "I failed Jolene as a mother." Tears fell.

I don't precisely blame myself for Jolene's death; but I have often wondered (long before she died) why God gave her me as a mother. I felt so ill-prepared to guide my very troubled girl.
I'm not getting into that today. Not really. Mom stepped in. She called my boss to let him know I'd be late. She fixed me a cup of tea and sat with me.

Then God gave me a moment of joy, through my cat.

While I lay on my bed sobbing, Talia watched me with wide blue eyes, obviously concerned. She followed me to the kitchen and kept me company while I drank sweet tea and ate a sandwich. Satisfied at last that her human was okay, she returned to play.

And the thought struck me as I watched her. Jolene now knows the answer to the question, Do animals go to heaven?

Anyone who has lost a beloved pet has asked that question. My feeling has always been that either way, we will be completely happy.

But now Jolene knows. Even now she may be hugging Andres (our 35-pound tom whom Jolene watched being born)--hugging that Talia never tolerates.

Thank God for Talia's unconditional love.

Return to Work

Today I went back to work. After half my normal hours, I felt like I had worked an entire shift. Tomorrow I'll ask my boss if I can work half-days for a couple of weeks. Six hours was too much.

But going to work was good for me. For periods of time, my mind was caught up in my work and the book I was listening to on tape. When I wanted to talk, I'd turn around, and chat with my seatmate about how my cat handled the stress of last week or about one person who is (repeatedly) expressing her sympathy in a way that makes me uncomfortable. My coworker understands, and when I turn around and go back to work, he doesn't feel offended.

In fact, my coworkers have bowled me over with their kindness. They sent a gigantic floral display and collected almost $175 additional as a gift. Six or seven of them left work to attend the memorial service on Friday, and today, everybody was ready with a hug, a quiet word of concern, an offer of help.

I left work at my usual hour. When I pulled into the parking lot, grief landed on my heart, increasing its weight a thousand percent. The full horror and pain of my loss jumped on and dug in claws.

At least our cat Talia (a lynx point Siamese) has returned to normal. She raced around the house and through a maze, glad that her two moms have spent a normal day without unexpected guests. Her sheer joy and relief gave me a reason to smile.

God has seen me through another first, going back to work. Another first. Tomorrow morning I go to file for death benefits.

By God's grace as shown through all of you, I know I will make it.