At my 8th grade lunch table, we compared hands, budding palm readers, one and all. Marcus Pappas blurted out "Cann's and mine look like old lady hands." He had a point—thin and boney—but it irked me that he said this out loud. Marcus died thirty-five years ago while still good looking, except, I suppose, his … Continue reading Windows to my Soul
Diabetes
Suitcase
I bought a new suitcase before we flew to France. We all did, my whole family. Over the years, our travel bags wore out. Broken zippers mostly, plus they were all duffels. The airline gave us specific maximum dimensions for our one allotted bag each. They had a slot at the ticket counter to measure … Continue reading Suitcase
Sheena
Sheena’s gone; Roz has diabetes; King Tut, cancer. Last week, I wrote about Tommy’s sudden laryngitis. I worried it could be—as cat-laryngitis sometimes is—the onset of a serious illness. Clearly, I worried about the wrong pet. Last night, Susan walked by Sheena’s habitat. “Oh no, Sheena died!” Sheena’s the corn snake we got when Sophie … Continue reading Sheena
Tommy & Me at 3:53
Seven, eight, lay them straight. Remember this nursery rhyme? Old-school, maybe no one under fifty-five has heard it. I didn’t until I started kindergarten in 1967. I lived in a progressive household. We laid them straight, gay, crooked or in a circle. Yes, this is the nonsense that ran through my brain at three-thirty this … Continue reading Tommy & Me at 3:53
Fancy Feast®
I pop open the can, Roz rubs against my leg. She paces back and forth, eager, and lets out a “mrouw.” “Mmm, Roz, it’s Salmon Feast in Gravy, your favorite.” It’s mine, too. I smell it and think how good it would taste over crackers—Carr’s® Table Water crackers to be specific. Two summers ago, my … Continue reading Fancy Feast®
Roz
Roz was fat. I’d like to use a nicer word, a gentler phrase—plump, stout, chubby, big-boned—she was all of those, but seriously, she was fat. When we picked her out at the shelter, that was the draw. She sat relaxed, content, like Buddha, an imperceptible smile upon her lips, watching us fool around with the … Continue reading Roz
The Other Stuff 