Treasure the Ordinary — Because It Never Is
10:00 AM is Gick Time in our house. It’s when little tubes of cat yogurt (“gick”) are doled out to our boys, laced with CBD oil (for joint pains with the two Maine Coons and seizures with the rescue), and a few cat treats on the side for garnish. It’s a happy little ritual that has occurred thousands of times. It’s normal. It’s everyday.
But as I watched Prawn (our big 27-pound Maine Coon) happily finish off his portion today, I realized that I used to watch Oswald do the same. And he’s been gone over two years now, long before we expected him to cross the Rainbow Bridge.
Prawn is a big moose-y boy, six years old and healthy as a horse. But he won’t always be here.
The ease with which I go shopping, walk around in our little town, feel safe, may be blown out of the water at any minute with the insanity in the House of Representatives and yet another Covid surprise.
I look forward to my favorite cafe opening up again in April — but this past year one of the owners dealt with cancer, and that just says who knows whether they will open again this year or not? Today they say yes, but the weeks ahead could hold events that keep the door locked and the cafe dark.
One of the things I hear most often today, as normal life is blown away and dismantled, is “I couldn’t imagine it being like this.”
I’m talking about more than being in the Present Moment. I’m talking about drinking in absolutely everything about an experience — the people. The weather. The sounds, the scents, all of it.
Take a heart’s snapshot of it so that it is always there with you.
Start imagining. And make a point of treasuring what you have, and saving what you can. Because sooner than you think, the memories are all that will be left. And you will have to learn a completely different existence.