Today mom had a big, long list of "things to do" and she didn't do them. Having only found out about the celebration at the guinea pig farm store yesterday, there was little time to prepare for the debut of our card line. What was required was focus, determination, and dedication to complete one task.
She took care of us instead.
I am still not drinking enough. But I am drinking a little. So, instead of taking me to the vet, she called to find out if we could try out something she saw someone do on the Internet with her sick piggie, which was to give it fresh, organic carrot juice. The vet said sure, give it a try. So, she got carrot juice. She drank hers. I haven't touched mine yet.
She let us all out on Runabout this morning too, instead of at bedtime when
she is too tired to play with us. We played together.
Next, we all turned into the pickiest eaters, just to draw her out a little more. You see, she can make cards of us or she can spend time with us. We prefer the latter. So, when she brought the parsley we love (also for the Vitamin C) some of us chowed down, some of us looked at her with disdain. So, she brought out fresh spinach. Some of us chowed down, some of looked at her with disdain. So, she chopped up what remained of our purple cabbage and offered that. Some of us...well, you get the picture.
And don't forget, Taj escaped! So, she spent the entire morning with us, went out for the carrot juice, roamed the streets running into people she knew, and finally returned home tired and determined not to stress out. What was more important? Us? Or cards of us? She chose US and we think she chose right.
The past week has been horribly emotional for personal reasons and today was the first day where even the faintest flicker of normality existed, and - as we all know - there is 9/11, which mom is trying to approach without becoming over-emotional. All week, the Homeland Insecurity Helo we got for the 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver flew LOW (very, very low) practicing or searching; fast, grey gunboats whizzed across the water; sleek, white-and-orange Coast Guard boats patrolled the Bay...and although this was our first week of summer and everyone feigned "mellow" once temps finally hit 80 degrees, there remained an unmistakably subtle vibration of a city under heavy surveillance. A very small city. Still, we are the first port south of the Canadian border and one terrorist had already been caught coming in from Canada on a ferry a few years ago...
so, mom chose us, the real us. Didn't make cards of us, simply chose us.
If I do have cancer, cards aren't going to save me. Nor will carrot juice. But knowing mom put me first will. And it will save her, too, if I haven't long to live. Knowing she chose me, us, is what 9/11 means here: choosing to cherish what we do have instead of seeking what we don't.
Loving today those who may not be with us tomorrow, even if that turns out to be me. Especially if that turns out to be me.
Cards will be made but they can wait. Magazines and calendars can wait.
"Doing" can wait. We come first. Love comes first.
Maybe I'll try some of that carrot juice so I can pee on mom when she picks me up for love later.
Who Loves Ya, Baby?
YumYum loves Ya!