Sunday, May 10, 2009

Father's Day

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The moon is waning at 98 percent full, states, which means that probably, it was full last night. My father of blessed memory died on a full moon, and so I always feel his presence most around these times of the month.

It's chilly, windy and sunny this morning, I notice while retrieving our NYT from the driveway, like we're living once again in Chicago. Now, back indoors, a cat's warm body hangs over the crook of my left arm, which makes typing challenging. This is the first Mother's Day, where I've felt somewhat qualified to be celebrated -- for parenting our two cats, Phoebe and Toonces, who we found at the local P.A.W.S. shelter last July.

It's the old Joy and Pain combo, I'm feeling this morning, looking at the sunlit leaves that are being whipped around by the cold wind....

Joy: Pat and I, finally, are some sort of parents; Pain: my father's not alive; Joy: my mother, at 83 and a half, thank God, is still alive and relatively healthy; Pain: she is much less mobile and less able-bodied than even a couple of years ago; Joy: my mom's brain is totally intact; Pain: I didn't sleep well; Joy: I have the most loving, compassionate partner I could ever wish for; Pain: she's still asleep while I'm unable to; Joy and Pain: we'll see my mother, sisters and their families later, but instead, I just feel like lazing around locally.

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