We have a sweet, dark gray tabby named Daisy who lives almost exclusively in Maddie’s bedroom. She used to roam the house more, but then we got Ginger, a cat-obsessed Labradoodle, and Daisy decided Maddie’s room, with the door closed, would be her safe room. She does go outside for brief periods, but does so almost always via a window in Maddie’s room.
Daisy has also come up with a couple different ways to make known her desire to come inside. Sometimes she stands on the back of the outdoor couch that sits outside the kids’ rooms and claws a screen. If that doesn’t work, she’ll peer into the tiny square pane in the bottom of the French doors leading into the master bedroom. I see her tiny face silently staring inside, or I might see one of the dogs sitting motionless inside, staring at something so enthralling outside that it could only be a cat.
Tonight I was about to let our dog Ginger out those French doors until I realized what the draw was. There was little Daisy and her sweet face peering in. I thought it was only fair to let Daisy in, rather then setting the dogs on her. So I knocked on Maddie’s door.
“Maddie,” I said. To my surprise, she answered right away.
“Please let Daisy in,” I said.
“Okay, give me a second,” she answered.
I could not believe my ears. Not only did I not have to say her name five times before she responded, but then she acknowledged my request AND let me know she needed a minute. What? Such a mundane exchange. Really. Who would think anything of that? Well, if you were Maddie’s mom, you would have been blown away too.
I returned to my room and waited. Not surprisingly, several minutes went by and Daisy was still looking longingly into the window. I fully expected that brief conversation to be the end of it. I was right. I had to remind her twice before she let the cat in. Eventually she did, of course, and I’m sure, as she does every night, Daisy settled down on the pillow right next to Maddie’s head.
These are the moments I hold onto. Tiny moments like this. Tiny but meaningful. Maybe only meaningful for that single moment, but that has to be enough for now. Inhale the joy, exhale the stress. Breathe in the good, exhale the difficult. Embrace the positive, and well, embrace the negative too, I guess.
The Year of Living Hopefully 