Confections For Cats

I remember contemplating the  number of  years a person may live, to the number of sunrises or the number of  springtimes . If a person lives seventy years they will have seen 25,550 sunrises or sunsets. As beautiful as they are, you can afford to sleep or work through some of them. At the same time, 70 summers, 70 first days of spring. That’s not that many when you consider how beautiful those events are, but I think we know that and that’s why come summertime or the first snowfall people go outside and marvel. Mathew lived 25 years or 9,125 days plus 7 weeks from his birthday until his death. Those last 700 days or so, weren’t quality days, most filled with pain and sickness. 25 summers. 25 autumns. I had 25 Mother’s Days with him and his twin. This picture  was taken  Mother’s Day 2014. In this picture of the three of us, I have that expression on my face   of vindication/joy I wrote about in  my  previous   post . Mathew was responding so well to the

I didn’t realize it at the time, how much I watched other people’s faces. I’m certain I am not unique. Most of us, even if it is on an unconscious level, are paying close attention to those around us specially when in a crisis. The classic example is portrayed in the media all the time. The expectant family in the waiting area, the doors open and the doctor strides out, often times in scrubs, removing his surgical mask as he approaches the family. Very symbolic. Everyone trying to read the expression on his face, hoping for an unspoken preview of what he will say next. Then I wondered how other people may have seen my expressions, my face. A caregiver spends a lot of time accompanying their loved one through the hospital or doctors offices. Either walking along with them, pushing them in a wheelchair or following along as they are pushed by transport. Each situation brings it’s own feelings, too many to address in one post. These feelings and nuances of these feelings are reflecte