That’s a little word for a big feeling.
Like, totally, OMG. Fur sure. Wow! WOW!
I think that dates my vernacular to within a few decades and hits some ancient pop culture references for oversimplified ways to express the so muchness that was, is, and feels absolutely interminable at this very extended, exhausting, striving, loving, fearing, shocking, inspiring, crazy moment.
So, wow, let’s take a moment to reflect on some of the inspiring bits and goodness of it all.
Careful, considerate kids that I see at work are inspiring. Even before “this,” they are the kind who held open doors for this “lady of a certain age.” They laughed – still laugh – at my bad jokes. (We’re going to hand-sanitize, then I’m going to shoot you in the head. After that, the OA and doc are going to pull your teeth out. Okay? A surprising number actually say okay. They mostly laugh.) They’re nice, especially the girl who actually joined in, a little shyly at first, the hand-sanitizing dance. (Instructions available free of charge!) These kids make me believe things will be better. If they are the next tide, then it has already turned for the good of us all.
ShopRite’s personal shoppers who fill orders to enable some of us to better protect our frail, at-risk dear ones are loving, whether they know it or not. They are also inspiring. They don’t get paid enough. There’s no way they do with an order only costing an extra $5 for pickup or $15 for delivery. They need their jobs. They need the money. But, they are willing to take risks, so others don’t have too. Another positive sign for a hopeful future.
Tabby’s Place (you knew I was going somewhere with this) is filled with all that is loving, kind, inspiring, and good. It is a place where hope is the eternal fountain of youth. The soft hearts that enfold the neediest kitties, the gentle hands that restore them to health and happiness or guide them with grace across the rainbow bridge are the beating pulse of greatness.
As for the kitties themselves, they are as existential as real. Cats exist beyond us, encompassing more than we can imagine, yet they are all so small (even our giants Archer and Louie), often frail and needy, typically independent and completely attached and affectionate. They surprise us with their silliness and seeming indifference at the oddest times (Pepita, what’s with the snub one visit and climbing into my arms to nuzzle my face the next?). Lester can probably tell you what dichotomy means. There are days he’d prefer to keep to his own self, but others where next to you is the exact right spot for as long as you can stand all that extra body heat smooshed up against your leg.
We’re all a little like Lester. While we each tend toward introversion or extroversion, we also have our moments with the other, sometimes surprising ourselves. So, we strive toward what we think we need to be to fit a situation. It’s not worth the effort. Cats show us that every day. “You be you. I be cat. Sometimes we be together. Sometimes, nah.” We accept that in them; we need to accept that in ourselves. Marjory sets a very good example. I’m not sure any cat is quite as self-accepting as she. It is other cats at meal time who present a…less Marjory-acceptable situation, if you catch my drift.
Marjory is a lot. Even little Myrna is a lot – a lot of black fuzz that needs gentle handling because she is cat and deserves it. I hope she likes her new digs and her new roomies. It might take time, but I’m sure Myrna will adapt because cat. New situation? Maybe a bit of a thing at first, but after negotiating the territory and the other cats, everything will shake out, perhaps with a little help from the peoples and maybe some treats (always treats).
So, too, can we adapt. We have adapted, across moments, over eons, in days, and through forevers. We ebb and flow like the tidal wave of cats that moves in and out of Tabby’s Place, unrelentingly, astonishingly, and beautifully with grace, goodness, and just the right amount goofiness, and every so often with a great big chunk of WOW.