Just weeks away...

I've been a bit rather silent of late.

Things have been trucking along in my little world and now it's only weeks away from my big day.  They say every little girl dreams of her wedding; but I was a bit more of a practical bent. I can honestly say I never imagined the specifics of my wedding as a girl; never thought about a dress or any of the finer details. I just had this big picture dream of a Rockies honeymoon, but not much beyond that.    I am just over a month away from my Rockies wedding so that dream living in the piece of my heart will be coming true.  Further, it will be a day with a small group of people.  This is quintessentially me; for I am not one for loud crowds or being the centre of attention.

Standing a few weeks out: what do I think I'm going towards?  Well, I have to say- I am not expecting to walk into a fairy tale.  "They lived happily ever after"?  Really?  Isn't it interesting that every story or movie we read or watch has plot, and characters develop and we stay interested because of conflict and character development?  I expect it to be the same for us in life.  The movie "Ever After", a spinoff of the classic cinderalla story stands out in my mind so strongly because they didn't say "they lived happily ever after", but something instead like "they lived."  And that is the point, living live together and making life better together. Walking into marriage, I expect to face good times and bad times.  Times of peace and times of challenge.  But times that can be faced and decisions that can be made together.

I have come across a few marriage related quotes that I very strongly identify with:

Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of eternal passion. That is just being “in love” which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Those that truly love, have roots that grow towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom have fallen from their branches, they find that they are one tree and not two.   - Louis de Bernières, from Captain Corelli’s Mandolin

And another:

But ultimately there comes a moment when a decision must be made. Ultimately two people who love each other must ask themselves how much they hope for as their love grows and deepens, and how much risk they are willing to take. It is indeed a fearful gamble. Because it is the nature of love to create, a marriage itself is something which has to be created, so that, together we become a new creature.

To marry is the biggest risk in human relations that a person can take.If we commit ourselves to one person for life this is not, as many people think, a rejection of freedom; rather it demands the courage to move into all the risks of freedom, and the risk of love which is permanent; into that love which is not possession, but participation. It takes a lifetime to learn another person. When love is not possession, but participation, then it is part of that co-creation which is our human calling, and which implies such risk that it is often rejected.

- Madeleine L’Engle, from The Irrational Season



 

Of joy & sorrow

I happened to pick up Kahlil Gibran's the Prophet at the library the other week.  One of bits was really interesting.

"Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears...
When you are sorrowful, look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight."

When young Jasper went missing I was full of sorrow, but that is only because he has been and thankfully continues to be a delight.  I feel a bit grateful thinking along this line when I think about sorrow; for it in turn means one has opened ones heart to things that matter.

And relief comes, not in the morning- but at about 4pm

I did my calling out the back yard, as I have been doing for the boy for the last 2 1/2 days.  5 or 10 minutes later I open the front door and see a cat there.  Originally thinking it was one of the girls, I was instead delighted to see the grey face of young Jasper.  He was dry, despite the rain and very hungry!  It didn't take long for his grumpy ways to reappear, meowing as I picked him up.  With a full belly he is now reclining on the car and safe, until at least his next adventure.  Being Jasper- I am sure there will be one...

Now to investigate whether they make tracking collars!

How long do you wait?

Is it 24 hours?  36?  48 hours?  A week?  How long is it that you wait before you draw that line in the sand and allow yourself to grieve and put to bed any last hope that might be in your heart.  What is the right amount of time?

48 hours ago I got up bright and early Saturday morning when the cats demanded to be fed at weekday feeding time, rather than delaying on the weekend.  Little did I realize when I got up to feed Jasper that would likely be the last time I'd ever see my boy.  I sure didn't treat it as if it was; I was happy to get back to bed after he started eating.  And now I wonder - if I had stayed up and occupied him would he not have gone on the wander or whatever it was that has caused him to go missing. 

48 hours.  It feels like an eternity already.  I so wish I could hear his regular meow at 4am saying he wanted out.  It wasn't unusual for Jasper to wander off for a whole day snoozing under a tree or something behind the neighbours in the spare section.  I called him for dinner multiple times, he didn't return. He didn't return over night.  I wandered the neighbourhood yesterday calling and looking and listening.  I called, I called, I called.  I have dropped flyers.  I have not found him.  The good news is I haven't found him on a road.  He may be alive, even if he has moved beyond my life.

I didn't know when I went through this process when Allie died last year that I would be going through it again less than a year later.  Bad luck everyone said when she died.  Bad luck x 2.  He hasn't been the same boy since she died.   He used to love food; that changed.  He definitely deprioritized it. He had almost become the neighbourhood bully of late, which is unusual for a ragdoll.  Back in the day other cats would come in through the cat door and he wouldn't defend or chase them out.  Lately you had hardly seen other cats since Jasper had set the boundaries. 

I'll miss my boy so much; my heart does break yet again.  I got him weeks after Allie and he didn't instantly win my affections like she did.  She was the perfect little girl from day one; figuring out her litter box and pretty much doing what she was told.  He was his own cat from day one; figuring things out slowly and on his own and pressing the boundaries.  It was Jasper that was 7 months old still peeing on the bed not quite having the litter box thing sorted. It was Jasper who did eventually learn to go to the bathroom outside - first in square shape planters that looked a bit like a litterbox.    It was Jasper that first pushed open the cracked window and was found outside patrolling.  It was Jasper who learned to climb the "safe" fortress of my last rental property to escape and check out the neighbours.  It was Jasper you'd see on the neighbours roof there.  It was Jasper who has LOVED chasing possums in the sounds.  It was Jasper who loved sleeping in the roof.  It was Jasper that loved being carried high in the air on a chair going for his "elevator rides".   Jasper has always walked outside of the lines, and again he does as wherever his footsteps have taken him; they have taken him away from home.   At one point in his kittenhood I was contemplating giving him up due to the cost of his peeing actions.  What I wouldn't give now in money to have him back. He has always been a character; charming at moments and infuriating at others.    All of those things wormed their way into my heart.  I grieve the loss of my grumpy young man.  I don't think he is coming home and the days of my 2 first cats in adult life have both come to a close only a few years in....   When you love, show it every day- you have no idea when that normal morning will turn into a heartbreaker.