Maria Stayed

Beautiful Maria will be 17 years old in two weeks. She’s arthritic, and blind, and has outlived two companions. 

In January of 2020 we lost her baby sister to a stroke. My husband and I had nothing really to discuss. We both knew we would not get another cat. Or even a pair of kittens. At the time, Maria still had her sight, but she was old and slowing down. It would not be fair to bring youthful spunk into her life. Liveliness that would jump on her and want to play. She did not have the strength or agility to chase and discipline another young companion. 

 

Besides, given her obvious frailty we were not sure how long she would be with us. Grief and old age could mean that she would be joining her loved ones, Gentle Horatio and Sweet Kiwi, across the rainbow bridge soon enough. 

 

In March, a global pandemic hit. By April, I was working full time from home. In May, I noticed that Maria’s eyesight seemed to be failing. And in June, our vet confirmed that she was going blind. 

 

Over time, Maria and I have developed a routine. Packing a lunch for “Daddy” every morning means a snack. Having me around means getting fed small meals throughout the day. Walks together, down the hallway to the home office are a nice way to start the day. 

 

Maria spends most of her time sleeping on the couch. She has learned the voices of colleagues through Zoom meetings and will come and lay by my feet. I am not Maria’s favorite person, but through this strange year we have brought each other comfort. This is not what I expected. 

 

Maria stayed.

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor.

It Is No Longer Dark

The year 2020 is certain to become part of the history books here in the United States. Like the Spanish flu of 1918 or the riots, protests, and assassinations of 1968. I think most of us living in the U.S. would agree that the year was pretty dark.

I began working from home on April 2, 2020. While there were early messages of hope for returning to campus it became clear that the new academic year would be different. It was under this landscape that I decided to create and maintain a routine.

When the daylight hours became shorter, and we changed our clocks at the end of Day Light Savings Time, I began to turn lights on in my house every afternoon. This is usually around 4:30 p.m. It has become part of my routine.

It is now January 2021. A new year. I am beginning to see, once again, signs of hope.

It is no longer dark at 4:30.

National Geographic

If you enjoy my blog and would like to follow me on Facebook, I can be found at The Reluctant Survivor.