Take those bright flowers.
Even if they last an hour.
Tonic for your soul.
“Beauty is so quietly woven through our ordinary days that we hardly notice it. Everywhere there is tenderness, care and kindness there is beauty.”
Perhaps it was a little crazy to take on a hospice cat over the holidays, or was it?
I was asking that potentially depressing question to a friend earlier this week since my husband passed away in hospice right after Christmas a few years ago.
On this gloomy bitter cold Sunday I’ve been watching Mr. Bojangles curl up on a cozy cat bed right beside me.
And I’ve actually been finding myself smiling.
Mr. Bojangles is holding his head up high, but not quite as high as he did when he first joined me.
Still he does so with grace.
Sure the fellow’s estimated to have only 2-5 months left at this point, but who really knows when our time is up anyway.
Three days ago Mr. Bojangles had stopped eating and didn’t seem to be drinking water. Yet by the next evening, I discovered he was back in the game.
However, it’s clear his appetite isn’t what it once was no matter the type of food given.
I’ve also noticed Mr. Bojangles is moving a bit slower, still every step he takes is deliberate. Though I no longer find him climbing the stairs to join the dogs up in the kitchen for breakfast.
Instead he prefers I join him in his private room and hold him as he tenderly takes in every flake of his tuna meals.
It seems Mr. Bojangles likes this extra one on one time.
I do know that I love providing him the extra attention he deserves along with some extra warm blankets.
Mid January can be especially cruel here in the upper midwest and this week has been no different.
Sub zero temperatures, icy roads with 20 car pile ups, and what looked like the loss of my hospice cat 3 days ago was beginning to play havoc with my soul.
Yet as I smell my beef stew now simmering in the crock pot while watching fresh snowflakes dance out the window to the sounds of that hospice cat still purring softly, I know it still is a beautiful world.
Yes, even in January.
Poor little Junie B’s been trying to keep a stiff upper lip with our daily below zero temps.
But after two weeks of the stuff, she finally put her paw down this morning.
She barked something about not coming out of the covers until we’re waving the red, white, and blue next July.
“But Junie B., I just heard the weather folks say we could actually see temps in the 20s tomorrow.”
“And that’s ABOVE zero!”
Skeptical as always, my girl let out a tiny growl as she settled back in for another long winter’s nap.
I wasn’t surprised in the least.
After all, Junie B.’s quite the little firecracker.
I was told he came from an animal cruelty situation.
I was told to expect him to live another three to six months.
Still you’d never know it to look at him.
At least, not for now.
Mr. Bojangles appears to be one happy gentleman. And he knows what he likes.
Since coming home with me right before Christmas, I’ve learned he clearly wants to be part of the family.
And to find his own place in the sun.
On this fifteen below zero morning, that meant scoring a soft bed on a desk near a well insulated window for a nap.
Occasionally Mr. Bojangles would jump down to stroll through the house, moving with gentle grace as he explored new closets and cozy corners.
Yet his speed would increase whenever I called him or when he heard the already familiar squeak of the door to the kitchen cabinet where his snacks are kept.
He knows that both mean a slow scratch and a tuna treat will follow.
It seems simple gifts bring Mr. Bojangles the greatest joy.
As well as just living in the moment.
And that’s made for one very wise man indeed this holiday season.