GRATEFUL

This Thanksgiving morning, I was awakened by the plaintive meow of my cat Jessica at 4am, loudly complaining that the woodfire had burned down and needed refilling. Jessica loves heat in all forms. She even possesses several plush heated beds. Yet the heat from the woodstove in winter remains one of the great joys of her life.
Dutifully, I got out of my warm bed, refilled the woodstove with several logs, patted Jessica on the head, and went back to bed. Then I lay there awake until I grabbed my laptop and began typing, haunted by the knowledge that the “cat alarm” I have had the last 14 years will soon cease. For Jessica will likely never see another Thanksgiving; she was diagnosed just this week with an aggressive cancer, and our remaining time together is limited.
Like so many of us, I usually rush through daily life at full speed, losing days and sometimes weeks to the madness of my list of “action items” and “to-do lists.” And then there are moments like these, where that frantic yet unmeaningful race becomes the background noise that in truth it always was, letting you know what you truly value and what’s unimportant. Jessica is important to me; and making whatever time she las left enjoyable for her is a priority. I will miss my little screaming alarm clock, my writing partner, my purring friend who made all the sick days of my working career more fun by her constant presence at my side. This tiny 7lb black and white cat will leave a huge gaping hole in my life when she leaves.
I anticipate a lot more 4 am early mornings this winter season. The new difference is that I will be grateful to hear Jessica’s call to get up from now on, until the last day it sounds.