An introduction to Moo-Shu ... Last summer my 17 year old niece brought a stray calico kitten home and named her Moo-Bear. This past spring I stopped over to my sister's house to chat, and off-handedly commented about how Moo-Bear didn't have long to go. Dumbfounded, sis hadn't realized that just under a year old & not quite full grown, Moo-Bear had heard mother nature's calling & gotten herself a piece, and now was ready to pay the piper.
The next weekend while crashing over at my sis's pad, Moo-Bear hopped into bed with me at 10am, just when I was stretching to wake up. Poor Moo-Bear didn't know what was going on as the contractions tighten her young body. I yelled for my daughter to bring me some old towels from the basement while I comforted the mama-to-be. As big around as she had grown, I had predicted her to have 2, probably 3 in her pouch; instead she had one monster yellow tabby cat that came out the size of a 6 week old.
My sister's boyfriend made his usual jokes about "garfield being in the chinese wok" - hence the name Moo-Shu sprung from Moo-Bear.
It never ceases to amaze me how quickly time passes. As I blink, life progresses. From fitting into the palm of my hand, to jumping playfully at strings, he's already the size of his mama.
Each moment in life, I wait painfully for the depression to pass, never realizing all the wonderful things I'm missing mean while, until the moments pass. Are they really gone? Can I relive what I've shut my eyes to?
My new focus: keeping my eyes & ears open to life. Oh, except for the 45 minutes in my uncle's car when he's singing along to a Celine Dion cd; I'd like to forever close my ears to that.