Category Archives: Getting older

The Reasons

Sometimes it’s so hard to do this job. Some days are so bad I can’t sleep. The horrible things I see every day – the cruelty, the neglect, the lack of empathy, the ignorance, the disregard for life – make me wonder if I can keep my sanity. I wrote about all of this before, in this post. But then I do what I did tonight. I walk through the shelter and look. Really look.

At the faces. At the names. I make eye contact. I reach through the cages and scratch them. I talk to them. I watch their reactions. And I smile again.

Yes, it’s sad seeing them like this, behind bars and glass. But I know their stories. I know where they came from. In some cases I’ve been to where they’ve come from and seen just how bad it was. Some of them I watched hobble in on the end of an officer’s leash, barely alive, skin and bones, starving, beaten, left out like trash. But then I see them after treatment, after plenty of medicine and food and hugs, and they are happy. And it feels a little bit better.

They are the reasons I keep doing this. The tears I cry when no one is looking are for them. I try to remember them all. Like Sparkle, who I wrote about here. Sometimes I feel that I am the only one who will remember them when they are gone, and it is my mission to do it. They all matter. They shouldn’t be forgotten.

When I wonder if I made the right choices in life, as I discussed in my last post, I can pull out their pictures in my mind. This is not an easy life, or one that will make me rich, or powerful, or bring me admiration. But it’s one I can be proud of. I may not be able to change the world, but I can do what I can. Most of the time it doesn’t feel like enough. But I know that I helped change the world for some of them. And for right now, that’s okay.

These are the photos I snapped tonight. I will remember. Will you?

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Not Older, Just Better…

No matter how you tell yourself

It’s what we all go through

Those eyes are pretty hard to take

When they’re staring back at you…

 – Bonnie Raitt, Nick of Time

Click the play button below to sing along! :

I’m digressing from the normal themes here for today.

It’s been a crazy, unpredictable thirty-something years. Like a roller-coaster careening out of control. My past two birthdays have been extremely hard, with a lot of pensive, morose thoughts, regrets about things in the past and fear of a dwindling future. I don’t know if that’s part of a so-called mid-life crisis or just the cranky, Maxine-like old lady version of me that sits on my shoulder and shouts rude things in my ear (for more curmudgeonly thoughts, see my post: Bodies of Work, Plastic Flowers, and the Bitch on Your Shoulder).

Personal revelation alert: my biggest fear is running out of time. Time to accomplish career goals, time to try new foods, time to learn, time to pursue passions and hobbies, time for the bucket list, time to get my pilot’s license, time to read ALL of Hemingway’s books, time to spoil my dog, time to see the world and get back to Africa, time to appreciate family and friends, time to be the voice for those that cannot speak…

With each birthday I feel my biggest fear materializing. Time is my nemesis, always hiding in a bush just outside my door, laughing quietly, waiting to pounce when I least expect it, no matter how organized and focused I may think I am (as in this post from last year: When Life Kicks You in the Ass).

When did the choices get so hard?

With so much more at stake

Life gets mighty precious

When there’s less of it to waste

– Bonnie Raitt, Nick of Time

But this year’s birthday came and went without incident. You know what? I had fun. I actually didn’t mind it, beyond the normal fretting about age and mild panic about my wasted twenties and rushing to make up for them. Maybe it’s the beginning of an acceptance of who I am and where I’ve been. Or a teensy bit of maturity. Or… a new optimism?? (Gasps, clutches chest in horror)

Whew. Happy thought passed. Thank god that’s over. Back to normal.

In any case, I kept the wolves of time that crouch in my head at bay this year. But I know they’re still there. They’ll always keep me uncomfortably aware. But that may be a good thing, in a way (there’s that disgusting optimism-thing again).

For now, I will enjoy the rest of the roller-coaster, hands in the air, screaming all the way  🙂

Happy birthday to me.

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