stories

 The beauty of capturing moments of our lives in some form, whether it be writing, photos, paintings, drawings, or any other means, is astounding. I am currently reading an entry of mine from the 13th of March 2016, I was visiting my parents at the time and received an email from my university to say that I had successfully completed my master’s degree. I had completely forgotten this, but reading the entry transported me back to that moment… running to tell my mother… her reaction… my father’s reaction. My mother is no longer with us, but it fills me with warmth to recall that I was able to share that moment with her. 

Today my dad told me a story about my mother, which he pivoted to from talking about cars and his favourite colour being red… he said that my mum became enraged any time he said his favourite colour was red because, when he first met her, he had been chasing/dating a lady in their social circle who was famous for wearing a long red coat. My mother insisted that this long red coat was what caused my dad’s lifelong affinity for the colour. I loved this story. 

But, tonight, I feel a hopeless sadness. A sadness for all of the animals and people who disappear. A sadness for my own weakness at not being able to avoid the pain and who, due to my sensitivity, avoids pet ownership because I still can’t get over the pain of losing my two cats in 2013. For the last 4.5 years, I have fed and given some company to a homeless cat that lives in the building, but I have not seen her now for several days and it makes me worry and become anxious… it turns me against people who are constantly driving in and out with their cars. I walked to the bank and saw two geese with a couple of Goslings… it is beautiful and sad because we are all alone, all living creatures. We are at the mercy of nature (and idiots) and, in the end, we all perish. 

Be kind, be friendly, be strong. 

 

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