Dear Lucy

Linus and Lucy Dear Lucy,

I remember April 2, 2009, like it was yesterday. Mom and I drove all the way out to Shelby Township to rescue you, which was very far for us. What we didn’t take into account was how scared you might be, so we didn’t bring a crate or anything. Mom just held you in her lap while I drove, and you shook, quaked, and trembled all the way home.

I fell in love with you on a website, a PetFinder website. I immediately locked onto your eyes and I couldn’t let go. Your coloring helped, too. All gray with butterscotch underbelly, paws and head. Just gorgeous. Since I’d been a Snoopy fan from way back, in fact he is my muse (sometimes fickle but always good for a laugh and dances like wild when he’s happy and fed), if you had been a boy I would have named you after him. But you were a girl, and I was overjoyed to christen you the oh-so-clever Lucy, Linus’s older brother, and Charlie Brown’s pain in the neck.

Since it is gratitude Wednesday, I want to take this time (yes, writer friends, I have just switched tenses in the middle of a letter  :P), to let you know how much you mean to me. Even when I threaten to trade you in for a different model, one with perhaps a bigger bladder, you know I’m only teasing, right? When I say I’ll drive all the way back to Shelby Twp.? Yeah, that’s just a bluff. I’m only holding a pair of two’s. 😉 You’re holding all the cards, and you’ll always have my heart.

When I’m feeling down, you seem to sense it, and you nudge me with your nose. You bring me one of your toys and plop it right down in front of me, which is really and truly a gift. Usually, when you want to play, when you know I’m feeling well and good, you’ll start to act as though you’re offering the toy, you make a quick pass around my hand and then – oh no – you zing safely out of reach! You’d make a good runner in football. Go for the touchdown, Lucy!

And Mom just loves you, and you sure do love your grandma, don’t you? As soon as you hear her moving around upstairs in the morning and you can hear that she’s making a move to come down, you start to head for the stairs, sit and wait for her. Then comes the wiggling, licking, petting. Oh, I was talking about you, wasn’t I? 😉

Lucy, little schnorkie o’ mine, you have made my life full, and I love you deeply. Since having you, I have not had to be hospitalized even once in-house. I wouldn’t want to leave you, that’s a huge reason. The second reason is you help me cope. You help me to see life is never as bad as I think it is. You make me smile and laugh. You give me a reason to stick around, someone to care about, someone who needs me. 

Live long, little one. Lots of happy chasing dreams. And let Charlie kick the ball once in a while, why don’tcha? 😉

your loving owner and friend

Thanksgiving Day, Sweet Potatoes And All

gratitude

The first time I started in the Al-Anon program, which is several years ago now, my sponsor instructed me to keep a gratitude list. I was told to write down at least three things each day I was grateful for. At first, since I was in a pretty rocky spot, they were fairly simple things: 1. Have two arms. 2. Have two legs. 3. They work. My sponsor at the time didn’t get in my face about it. She was patient, and pretty soon the lists changed. They grew as I grew in the program and let go of some of my baggage. Lori is no longer in my life for reasons beyond my control, but her memory still lingers now and then. I’m grateful. I left the program when I lost her as a sponsor and did not return until about a year and a half ago and now have an even better sponsor. God is good.

“For each new morning with its light, For rest and shelter of the night, For health and food, for love and friends, For everything Thy goodness sends.”-Ralph Waldo Emerson– That just about says it all, doesn’t it? You know, I read somewhere that even when it’s cloudy the sun is still out. That’s why if you are going to the beach or you are highly sensitive to the sun, you still have to put on SPF in case of a burn.

You have to understand and grasp at the outset that I am an optimist by nature. I will always see the glass half full, even if it’s cyanide. On my darkest days, I have hope for the future. It’s the only thing that keeps my going. I wasn’t born with it; God gave it to me, just like He gave me my faith, and for that I will always be indebted.

My family brings me great joy, and we almost lost one of ours to lymphoma not long ago. Our dear Jimmy, my older brother who taught me all the lyrics to every Beatles song ever written had to have two series of chemo and radiation. He still has to go back every six months for check-ups, because cancer can be persevering. He was over to the house yesterday, and he made me laugh, as usual. His sense of humor and mine are sometimes exactly in sync, and when that happens it’s magical.

Laughter is something else that always belongs here when speaking of gratitude. The other day I borrowed a CD of The Best of Bill Cosby: he had Old Weird Harold, Fat Albert, and all the antics he got up to in Philadelphia. I listened to it in my car on a long ride. I was laughing so hard, that for a minute I worried people might stare at me. Then I didn’t care, and howled anyway.

My mother, 85 this year, continues to amaze me. My only hope is that I will look like her, but mostly that I will have her wisdom and self-assurance when I am her age. She is teaching me that what everyone else thinks of me is none of my business.

Lucy, the early-to-rise schnorkie, has been my first in-the-flesh experience in unconditional love. All I can do is care for her the best I know how. Feed her, play with her, take her out, make sure she has a warm place to sleep. It doesn’t seem enough for all that she gives me.

My friends on FaceBook, too many to mention here, get me through great and difficult times. They know who they are. My knitting group, whom I shall see tomorrow, is fun and funny and wise beyond words. Last but not least, Dori, my Al-Anon sponsor, who listens to my messes and tries to help me make sense of them. She, too, is wise beyond her years, and someone I would like to be when/if I grow up.

It’s a great day, people! Don’t just sit inside all day. What one thing can you do for someone you’re grateful for? (Preferably still alive) It can be as simple as a hug. Hugs are wonderful, touching things.

Peace out.