Cat-shopping, I'll bring money, you name.
So, I cheated, added a dash. The idea was semi-cute.
Nine 9/11 ago-es, my mother and I, pre-Zora, pre-Brian, pre-job and NY, pre-damn near everything, went looking for a cat. Perhaps she wasn't but I was, hoping to find Eve a friend, more so, hoping to find someone to befriend my night-wailing lonely tabby.
Most of my cats have come from the same place, the Animal Rescue League of Boston, and, yes, I said most. I've had as many cats in my life as they have lives; a strong herd of 9, not at the same time of course, though we maxed out at 4 in '08.. but that ain't the point.
I was getting a new cat.
I've been told I approach love in the same way that I cat-shop. I think any likely can do as long as I've chosen them, love them first, hardest, and they'll fit into a small box. Sounds about right. This one didn't fit in small boxes. Wailed like a background singer in the taxi ride home. Hid everywhere one can and can't hide: a box, a well-stuffed study. In a plastic bag.
This one was my favored and favorited.
I loved her like a child, like my child, in that strange catlady type of love most likely. In the way I think, we deserve to be loved, but most times, can't recognize that we are, that we're not, that we may not ever, or that we will be soon.
There is no way to credential it, to figure it out, unless it drops out of the sky and into your lap and says: "I've got you. Loved. Life-long. Not to worry."
But it doesn't. That time it did. But most don't approach love in that whole cat-buying-by-the-catlady type of way.
My mother loved her too. They had much in common. Passively accepting love from their low-laying-ports.
Perhaps they got it right, righter than I ever likely will.
You speak from a place of privilege. It sounds like this blog may or may not be acknowledging that. To think: if I love something, if I love something first, if I choose something, if I set the parameters; of course it will love me back. It will see how much it is loved, it will see how much I love it, but, in ways, is "it" getting the choice, a choice, or for "It", is loving back mandatory. Most people / things, like choice. However, perception is everything. On the other hand you display a lot of courage, Diane, which many people never do. You put yourself out there, you take a chance, you take the leap of faith, and put your whole heart into something. And, you CHOOSE! You should be commended for that. Props!
ReplyDeleteIt is always noted; this privilege. But its unlike most. It's not the type that can recall idyllic days, holidays included and say with some level of legitimacy: I had a great day. I wasn't worried about food, shelter, my mother's next episode. I think, perhaps like you've reasoned here: its more the type that 1. has the capacity to be introspective (a privilege) and 2. has the energy/drive/predisposition to do so.
ReplyDeleteHowever, as it relates to love, and choice: I'm likely a bully. I'm not certain if thats a privilege or a profound non-benefit: but I choose then love. Perhaps its my faulty logic. I can take that. I think its likely that, actually.
I've learned some over the years. I know what I want, more like what others want: ease, fluidity, I want rightness most of all. I'm finding that choosing first sometimes, yes, gets in the way of rightness and that (to me) that matters more than my assumed and likely true privilege of choosing love.
However, sometimes it don't. (not a typo)
i can only see. I'm living it now, so, I'll likely see soon.
Be well during the holidays if these holidays are yours. And if not, be well anyway.