It’s a quiet start to another Sunday, the cats and I quietly
watching the day begin, coffee close at hand, neither cat is all that
interested beyond laying a furry head down and occasionally throwing a glance
my way, but they both stay close.
I say both cats, but we only have one – the other is from across the
street, the neighbor’s cat who has adopted us as his second family; his second home - free and
welcome to come and go as he pleases through the back cat-door the boy and I
installed earlier this summer – a means of allowing our own old cat to head
outside at those God-awful times in the middle of the night by himself without
human assistance or attention - and for the most part he’s figured it out.
You can teach an old cat new tricks apparently.
And then there is Pepper, the cute little grey and white cat
from across the street who loves attention and wanders among the 4 or 5 houses
around his own, getting treats and a good belly scritch from Mr. Monk next door
or hiding in Rhonda’s flowers waiting for her to arrive with her gardening tools, or patiently
sitting on our front stoop – eager to welcome us back home, and hopeful we’ll
allow him in to partake of some food in the second cat bowl in the
kitchen. Chris, his rightful
owner, was aghast when she learned that he was eating at our house - she knew
we loved him as one of our own and had no qualms with seeing him in our front
window and not her own – but never realized he’d adopted us so fully as to
think of himself as being ‘home’ over here. But he knows where his true home is, and comes and goes
through our doors like the welcome friend that he is.
Our cat more than tolerates him, and if he sees the familiar
face peeking in through the new glass front door, he’ll give out a meow
reserved for the very purpose of announcing his friend is here and should be
let in at once. And if one of us
is paying attention, we’ll dutifully open the door and usher the purring guest
into our home.
Cats can teach old humans new tricks too.
So there they sit, or lay or whatever it is that cats do
when they curl up and tuck everything in and look so damn comfortable just
existing in the sun. A
chiropractor’s dream client – if it weren’t for that spring of a back bone that
allows them to contort every which way, and to do so with such ease and just a
hint of showing off - you can’t help but admire their attitude.
It’s been hot out lately – too hot – dangerously hot in fact
this week to the point where outdoor activities were cancelled Wednesday – the
heat and that damn humidity making it medically unsafe for much exertion
outdoors. But we know that’s not
going to last, so we endure it and manage through and accept that with little
rain this summer the trees and leaves are drying out too soon – the acorns have
been falling for a good week already – the pumpkins already orange – the
calendar must be wrong. It can’t
be that time yet – we exclaim, hoping we’re right but knowing we’re wrong –
nature doesn’t watch the calendar – it is what it is and this is what we’ve
got, so better to deal with the reality and keep moving forward than to morn
the loss of what was and be mired in self pity and denial.
It is September and we can’t run away from that – though the
kids would love to stretch another week or two of summer vacation in there somehow
– wasn’t it just June? - School starts Thursday and for us it means High School
starts this week.
High School.
Really?
Where did it go?
How did it happen? Why didn’t we see this coming? We’re not ready for this, are we? Didn’t we just finish walking him to
Kindergarten last year? That smiling happy little face, excited for the chance
to go to school and meet new friends and learn new things; the one who happily
played all day and loved to have books read to him at bedtime, in that cozy
room at the end of the hall, with the Noah’s Ark décor and the huge collection
of stuffed animal friends that overtook the bed and left little room under the
covers for him let alone us as well to cuddle and snuggle and play pretend.
No, that wasn’t last year, or the one before that, no, that
was a few too many moons ago, and this week we’ll take a new ‘back to school
picture’ this time from in front of the renovated front entry – another sign of
the changes that have been quietly and constantly evolving through our lives –
that once little boy with the oversized backpack and goofy grin will have been
replaced with a giant version of himself, a confident young man embarking on
the next stage of his scholastic journey, and we’ll watch him walk down the
street that morning and know that he’s well on his way, and that he’ll be fine.
We know this – we’ve seen him grow and change all this time,
and we’ve enjoyed every minute – even the tough ones – and we’ll remind
ourselves that this is how it is meant to be – whether we want to admit it to
ourselves or not. He’s a good kid,
we’ve done a decent job of getting him ready to face the world, and now he’s
beginning to step out there on his own.
It’s September, and that means it’s time to begin getting
ready for fall, for packing up the summer life and putting it all away neatly
and safely for next year, while preparing for the next guest to arrive, the one
that doesn’t seem to stay quite long enough – the one you want to overstay
their welcome but never quite seems to.
Maybe that’s why you miss them more than the others – they know how to
quietly arrive with little fanfare and how to suddenly depart unannounced,
leaving you wanting just one more day with them; one more quiet morning sharing
stories and listening to each other’s silence.
So it’s time for boxes of ripening tomatoes, for back to
school shopping, for school pictures and timetables, hockey registration and
football practices, earlier bedtimes and fewer hours of sunlight. Cooler evenings and warmer clothes,
thicker blankets and heated floors, comfort foods and community halls. The cats are getting restless – it’s
time to shift again.
The cats, the Boy, the seasons. Constantly changing, constantly moving forward, constantly
welcome. It’s not the change that brings the uncertainty; it’s the longing to
not let go of the past that creates the fear of the future. We need to be mindful that it has
always worked out just fine before, there’s no need to think otherwise looking
ahead – so embrace the change, accept the reality and enjoy the moments as they
unfold around you. Those moments
are what makes your life.
