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Been There?

Daily writing prompt
What’s something most people don’t understand?
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Another broad question that I find difficult to answer. Is it something about me they don’t understand, something about politics, something about religion, or something about, say, cats? And most people? I hate to judge what others do or do not understand.

But I’m experiencing something first-hand now that I only knew about second-hand from other people, and that is, when an aging parent gets ill. My dad has pancreatic cancer. For those who don’t know, that’s not good. The five-year survival rate is about nil and generally it’s not caught until it’s too late.

Until very recently I could brag about how healthy my dad was. He took no medications (he called his vitamins his “medication”), he had no illnesses, he was very active. At the age of 89, he golfed three times a week, bowled twice a week, played bridge one or two times a week, and played bocce ball once a week. He chose to stay active. That doesn’t count all the sudoku and math games he played.

Then, in January, he began experiencing some pain in his side. It took a month, but they finally diagnosed the cancer. I was in shock. My exceptionally healthy dad has pancreatic cancer? It is stage three and as far as we know, it hasn’t spread to his lungs or lymph nodes. He’s started chemo, but there have been setbacks and they’ve had to cancel his chemo treatments a couple of times.

I’ll say it again, I’ve been in shock. They say the first stage of grief is denial, but I don’t think I’m in denial. I’ve talked to my friends about it and they sympathize. Coming to grips with an aging parent’s mortality is tough. My dad’s attitude is great, and if that has anything to do with it, he’ll live quite awhile longer.

I’m going out to see him soon and I’ll see for myself what’s going on. In the meantime, I’m learning I don’t understand what’s happening. I guess most of us don’t until we go through it ourselves. I’ve always tried to understand, but I realize now my understanding was superficial.

Maybe that’s what most people don’t understand: you can’t truly know until you’ve been there yourself.

Image Credit: Header: © Lila Patel–stock.adobe.com

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Bang, Bang You’re It

Daily writing prompt
What was the best compliment you’ve received?
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I can’t say this was necessarily the best, but it’s the one that’s stayed with me for more than fifty years. In junior high (now known as middle school) I wore my hair like everyone else did in those days–straight, long and parted down the middle. Looking back, it was hardly the most flattering fashion, on me and most others. But that was the style.

One Christmas vacation, for reasons I can’t remember, I decided I wanted bangs. I was pleased with the result and looked forward to showing off my new hair style when I got back to school. Unfortunately, most of my friends either didn’t like it or didn’t care and said nothing. But one boy did.

“I like your bangs,” he told me. “It makes your face look less round.”

I never was quite sure that my bangs really did make my face look less round, but a boy had noticed my hair. Not a boy I was particularly interested in, but one whom I wouldn’t have expected a compliment from.

I’m not naming him, even with a pseudonym. It took me years to realize he was interested in more than my hair. He liked me. I was shy and decidely not popular, he was outgoing and quite a hit with everyone. Unfortunately, by the time I recognized his interest, I was in my 30s and hadn’t seen him in more than fifteen years.

But back to my hair. From that time in seventh grade until now I’ve always worn bangs. Not so much because a boy said he liked it, but because he was right. Bangs do look better on me.

So from me to this unnamed boy (now both senior citizens, good grief): thank you. And I’m sorry I didn’t see you for who you really were.

Image Credit: Header © Felippe Lopes–stock.adobe.com

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Walter Likes To Play Hide and Seek

I was in my laundry area the other day when I noticed a furry tail sticking out from under the shirts I had hanging up on the door to the water heater. After calling out, “Oh my gosh, where could Walter have gone? Have I lost him forever?” he peeked out, as you can see here. Thank goodness I had not lost Walter.

Do you think she sees us now?

Image Credits: Cesar Cat © Belinda O; Paws in Heart © Bigstock Photos; Hiding Cats © gayuhh–stock.adobe.com

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Owl or Pussycat?

Daily writing prompt
Which animal would you compare yourself to and why?
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Well, now, that’s a tough one. I’d like to be a wise old owl (well, maybe not old, although I’m getting there), but that’s a myth and I’m really nothing like an owl. If owls truly were bookish, that would be me. Again, a myth.

The simple fact of the matter is, I’m more like my cats than I care to admit. I have my spurts of activity followed by long rest periods. I like my routine, except for getting up at dark o’clock in the morning.

Now, unlike my cats, I don’t care for seafood. Nothing that lived underwater, nuh-uh. And I do like a little more variety in my meals than they seem to need. But I really don’t need a whole lot of mixing it up in the kitchen, literally or figuratively. I’m content with only some variety. Or let me put it this way, I like the option of variety.

But the kitties and I have another thing in common. They check out the household on a daily basis, and so do I. They’re looking to mark territory, I’m looking to plot my next cleaning move. But you’ll see all three of us wander from room to room.

And I do like yarn. I’m constantly having to keep my cats away from my current knitting project.

I hope I’m as sweet and gentle as my kitties, but I doubt it. I think I have a little sharper edge. Okay, that might make me a little like Mimi. I guess female cats are somewhat feistier.

So, hmmm, if, like some say, my cats think I’m just one giant feline, maybe they’re right.

Image Credits: Owl at computer © Taras Vykhopen–stock.adobe.com; Cat and yarn © kenza–stock.adobe.com

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Outgoing Mail

Daily writing prompt
Have you ever unintentionally broken the law?
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That’s a good one. And I’m not going to confess to anything here. But did you know it’s a felony to throw away mail sent to your address but belonging to another person? Yep, a felony, even if it’s junk mail. The proper way to handle this is to write, “not at this address” on the envelope and put it in your outgoing mail.

The problem I face is there is no way to send outgoing mail at my apartment complex. They took away our mailbox and there’s been nothing to replace it. You may not believe this, but I’ve actually driven a mile to the post office near my workplace to return mail that isn’t mine. Given the return address on those envelopes, they looked important.

Nope, no outgoing mail for me.

Fortunately most of the junk mail I receive is addressed “Occupant” and that’s me, so I don’t worry about it. And I confess, I’d feel pretty silly taking a credit card offer for another person to the post office. I wish they’d get us a box for outgoing mail, but so far, they’ve refused to do so.

Have I unintentionally broken the law? Perhaps I did before I knew about this law, but I don’t remember for certain.

Image Credits: Pop Art Mailbox © sapunkele–stock.adobe.com; Outgoing Mail © Kathy images–stock.adobe.com