Attached at the Hip

by Christine Riccio

“I like a lot of words. They slip into my bloodstream and inspire me to keep putting one foot in front of the other when nothing else can.”

“You’re forced to live in the moment,” I say quietly. “Every hour feels so much more significant. You feel time harder. It just slips away when you have all the distractions of the normal world.”

FOUND SO MUCH PEACE IN THEIR BEAUTY, THEIR FOIBLES, THE INTRICACIES OF THEIR INTERACTIONS. THEY TAUGHT ME PATIENCE. HOW TO BE STILL . HOW TO APPRECIATE WHAT’S RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. THEY TAUGHT ME ABOUT HOPE. AND IN SO MANY WAYS THEY PREPARED ME FOR YOU (AND YOUR SISTER).

“In the end, it’s not about messing it up or knocking it out of the park, it’s about getting up off the couch and doing it in the first place. Trying. Growing.

beaming at me, right in the middle of all the guests. I smile back. “We put ourselves in neat labeled boxes to make sense of who we should be. We wall ourselves off from what we think we can’t do to try and protect ourselves from getting hurt. From failing. “I’ve come to realize … that what we’re really doing in those moments is putting a ceiling on our capacity to grow. To learn. Evolve. We’re holding ourselves back.

“We can all do so much more than we give ourselves credit for. We just have to step out of those neat little boxes to realize it.

“We only live once, and … I … I want to run into my fears, and pounce on good things, and chase them.” “I think you’re describing a day in the life of an outdoor cat.”