Sunday, July 29, 2012


In the shadow of a calling I found myself . . . 
                                                Embracing the unexpected.

Musical Moment
        ~ “Sorry I Am”  Ani Difranco

I was going to write about query letters, but the last few weeks have been a whirlwind of fear and sadness.  

The Fear:
Two and a half weeks ago, my sweet pug Cooper was very, very sick and ended up having two surgeries.  One for an obstruction in his small intestines and the other for stones in his bladder.  The “obstruction” was a 3/4 inch corn cob he managed to gobble down before I or the husband could snatch it out of his throat.   Who knew that a few months later a seriously sick dog would move in with us and become a dog we did not recognize.  Even the folks at his veterinary office were freaked out, which was surprising as I thought they always see sick and sad cases within their pet population, but I realized Cooper is different.  When he goes to the vet he’s always happy to be there and makes sure he gives kisses to everyone.  Many times I’ve heard the girls in the back office squeal when he appears.  He’s a popular fellow there.  The support was nice, the surgeries scary and I honestly dont think I can have another dog after him.  My heart hurt until I got him back home and his ears lifted and his tail curled back up.

Cooper recovering.

The Sadness:
My husband’s grandmother passed away on November 22nd.  Her name was Zenna and she was 93 years young.  She was one of the most “alive” women I have ever had the privilege of having in my life.  Zenna knew how to live.  She worked until she was 87.  She used to sing and dance for “elders” at the nursing home.  She was a bowler and an avid movie goer.  For Zenna, life was meant to be live and she did just that.  But the last couple years, well, the last few years she had a visitor named dementia and she lost the ability to walk without a walker and then a wheelchair.   These were complete blows to Zenna.  She was not a happy camper when her freedom was taken away.  I remember once she said to me, 

“Debbie, don’t get old.  Getting old sucks.”  


“Debbie, you know why I love you?  You don’t treat me like I’m an old woman.”

I laughed then as I laugh now.  Getting old does suck when you can no longer do what you’ve always loved doing and when, sadly, you no longer recognize yourself.

I was very luck to know this strong-minded, honest, funny woman who lived passionately and had the kind of moxie I strive to have.  I will always remember “my Zen”.  She was my friend as well as my grandmother.  She accepted me, loved me, liked me and made me laugh.  She lived as most wished they could live and will forever be a beacon of what life can be if you choose to live and be fierce and fearless.  

To Zenna.

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