I’ve had a good life thus far. In the last few years, I’ve made enough money with this blog to pay the bills. And now there’s social security to pad things a bit.
Someone asked me how I’m doing. Well, aside from the ankle thing, I think I’m doing pretty well. I had surgery on a Monday and I’ve been inside for basically 6 weeks except for a couple of doctor’s appointments.
But I’m doing great overall. Mentally and emotionally. Much better than I was doing before the surgery when I was in so much pain.
Whether there was pain or I was grieving the loss of a pet, that was hard. It’s still hard. But life moves on and you just try to ride the waves until it gets easier.
Grieving The Pet Babies:
I miss Abi and Charlie and Gracie and right now tears are pouring down my face because I can’t hold them close.
Every time I see a photo of one of them, I come undone. They were all so very special to me. I still can’t let my eyes rest on the boxes their ashes are held in. But they’re in a safe and honored place and I know they’re here and still with me.
I’ve had good days and bad days, just like everyone else. But for the most part, I’m happy with how things have turned out.
I find joy in my home and in gardening. And of course Ivy.
Right now she’s sleeping on the end of my recliner. That’s as close as Ivy gets to a human being. She likes her space. I respect that. It’s just who she is.
In the evening I take my shower and watch TV in my bedroom. That’s been my routine ever since I had surgery.
Ivy goes back to my bedroom then too. By the time I get out of the shower, she’s usually laying on the yellow table with a quilt I put there for her, all curled up and asleep.
My Nextdoor Neighbor:
Nextdoor neighbor Steve comes over here and there and brings my mail inside. And when he does, Ivy runs and jumps on the dining table because she knows he’s going to give her kitty treats.
He has a cat now to keep him company, and we talk about what each cat has been up to. Like these two cats are our kids. And I guess they are.
Our adult kids have lives of their own and don’t really need us anymore. They’re busy raising their own kids.
The other day when my two oldest grandkids were here, I told them that Steve is a good friend to me. But that one day some lady is probably going to snap him up. And when that happens I’ll probably lose my supper companion.
But for now, we eat together about twice a week, taking turns who pays for the meal.
Sometimes we sit, he on the couch and me in the recliner with my leg still elevated, and shoot the breeze. We talk about what’s going on in the world. He tells me about people he knows who have had or now have Covid.
Me, I don’t know all that many people. Just the neighbors and all of you.
No one could have fathomed all that’s happened in the past few years. To learn to be ever so careful what you touch and to wash your hands constantly. And to keep your distance from other people due to Covid and the other variants that we’ve seen.
It isn’t all that strange for me because I’m a homebody. But I expect it is for most folks. People who are more socially inclined.
But then years ago people weren’t able to order their groceries online and have them delivered right to their door. That has saved me during the past months.
The only place I truly like to go is garden nurseries. Or where people are scarce and taking photos of nature.
Otherwise, I’ve weathered it all pretty well. I never really cared about eating in restaurants. And I’ve never cottoned to traveling.
Basically, my world for the last six weeks has been what I see out my patio door.
Right now I’m just barely walking, but for six weeks the pain of standing on that leg has lessened considerably. I just have to hope that that continues.
Even if I end up having to wear the walking boot much of the time, if I don’t have to endure that constant pain I would be pretty satisfied with things.
Because pain is so hard on you physically, mentally, and emotionally. It clouds your judgment and makes you feel trapped inside your own body. And chips away at everything you love.
The Lack Of Daily Pain:
So the lack of pain, even if I’m not walking much yet with my right leg, is a momentous victory to me.
You never truly know how bad things are until it begins to get better. Then you’re more grateful for every little victory. Every hour or day without pain.
Right now I read books and watch movies and don’t really worry about the world outside my door. Ivy never goes out. So now I guess my life is more like Ivy’s.
Ivy spends a lot of time sleeping behind my recliner. Sometimes I look back there and she’s fast asleep with her front paws up in the air like a string is holding them from above. I don’t know how she does that.
Just Ivy and I, living here in the apartment we moved to 7 months ago.
Sometimes I think about how I will decorate for the holidays in a different environment this year. And that’s kind of exciting for this homebody.
You learn that you don’t need all that much. Food and shelter and a companion. And my companion is Ivy.
By the way, today is International Cat Day.
Below is a photo of Kasi and Ross at a Mexican resort last month celebrating their 20th wedding anniversary.
And here’s a photo of Andrew from a few years ago, and one of Andrew now. His favorite thing to do is go fishing with his dad. That boy catches some pretty big fish!
And here is a photo of Kendra and Marley and Riley recently. Riley now towers over his mom and little sister.
Life has a way of working out.
Relationships are sometimes tenuous.
People come and go in life. Some people are in your life for a short time but were just passing through.
Life itself is a balancing act.
And so, when looked at as a whole, my life has been pretty darned good thus far. I try to live it much like the wording in the famous quote by Nelson Mandela.
“The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.”
– Nelson Mandela