a good, healthy cry
O.M.G.
When I came home after the Christmas Day festivities, I switched on the TV and My Dog Skip was on. Annabelle was already in bed, so I had to keep getting up to go hug her as I bawled my eyes out. I'd seen the movie many years ago, but at the time I didn't have a dog and I wasn't this old. With age, I'm learning, comes an appreciation for the little things in life. Cliche, cliche, I know, but it's true.
I wanted to pick up Skip and run away with him. I bawled. This was not weeping or even crying, folks. This was all-out bawling.
People so often say that it's a dog's unconditional love that endears us to them. For me, it's that and it's Belly's simple satisfaction with life. Her needs are so easily met. Mine, it sometimes seems, will never be met, and so I take heart in the fact that some things in life really are easy. Food, love, affection, toys, treats, running, playing (not necessarily in that order), and she's happy.
Now, friends, I'm off to write my very first faculty productivity report, and I'm hoping my readers will also appreciate the little things in life. Sigh.
posted by aerobil @ 11:39 AM
3 comments
3 Comments:
I had a kindred moment yesterday, as Tom and I spent a happy afternoon making a feast for just ourselves. And I thought to myself, these are the best days of my life. Whether it's a too-recent death of a friend, or the pleasures of a holiday, or a tear-jerker flick, sometimes we're just reminded simultaneously of how happy we are and how fleeting all of this is. Sorry--I hope that doesn't sound too dark. It's actually an attempt to express a strong, complex feeling that is both joyful and somber.
I hear you. I think I'm hitting the point where I'm learning to appreciate what I *do* have rather than what I want want want. Cuz I'm seeing too much stuff being taken away around me, maybe. Life, health, comfort, security. I've got all of these and more. Life really is good.
I saw My Dog Skip a long time ago on a trans-Pacific flight. Fortunately it was dark out and most of the other passengers were sleeping, so I didn't have to bawl in front of a bunch of strangers.
What Annabelle has taught you about life Mei-Mei keeps teaching Linda and me. Mei-Mei has diabetes and is blind now. She still lives with Linda's parents because she's more comfortable with that area than she'd be with our little apartment. It seems the only time we have to visit her is when we have to take her to the vet for a check-up, including a blood test (which I'm sure she hates). But whenever she "sees" us, she jumps all over the place, and when we open the car door to take her to the vet, she always climbs in as if we were going to take her on the most wonderful trip imaginable.
Even when she was healthy, Mei-Mei taught us to be joyful about the simple things--even "regularity" was/is a joyful experience for her. (I think it's because I have to clean it up, not her!)
Anyway, I'm rambling... Guess I'm also trying to say "I hear you!"
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