role model

So my nephew has four crazy aunts. No uncles, just aunts. Poor kid. For some reason, my family asked my nephew, "If all your aunts were in the lake drowning, which one would you save?" I wasn't there when they asked, but apparently he answered, without hesitation. He said, "My Aunt Jennifer." When  they asked him why, he said, "Because she's my role model."

That's about all anyone can ever hope for in life, right? To know that someone else looks up to you. Gulp.

Fat fish

Just a few random thoughts from the weekend...

• Why is it that the movie Steel Magnolias still makes me cry - and laugh - even after I've seen it probably 100 times?

• I stopped in at the grocery store the other day and decided to get a piece of catfish. As I was about to ask the guy behind the counter for it, suddenly that scene in the movie Must Love Dogs played in my mind. You know, where the single woman buys a single chicken breast and he gives her hell about it, asking if she's sure that's all she wants. As I'm running through this in my head, I ended up asking for one piece of "FATfish. Er, I mean catfish, please." The guy looked at me kinda funny and I tried to play it off, but I know what happened. I let those "I'm single, eating alone, ugly and fat" thoughts creep into my head. Never knew the seafood counter could be so traumatic! Sheesh.

• What is this fascination people seem to have with "going to the lake" and "floating the river?" I truly do not get it. It's already around 95 degrees with humidity in the 70% range and it's technically not officially summer yet. There's just nothing about the lake or tubing that I find appealing. I always say, "Round body, round tube, slippery water = disaster." And why is it that I seem to be the only one who doesn't like summer?

Peace Prayer

I think this is beautiful...came across it tonight and really needed to read it...

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love,
Where there is injury, pardon
Where there is doubt, faith,
Where there is despair, hope,
Where there is darkness, light,
Where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much
seek to be consoled as to console,
not so much to be understood as to understand,
not so much to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
it is in dying that we awake to eternal life.

~ St. Francis of Assisi

Cotton Ball Tears

Tonight the sight of a cotton ball made me cry. It’s been one week since my beautiful, faithful cat Bridget passed away. And she loved to chase cotton balls. So tonight when I reached for a cotton ball to remove my nail polish with, I just started to cry.

Bridget was my companion for nearly 16 years and was right there beside me for all the big moments in life. Cats are very independent and Bridget was probably more independent than most. She would always come love on me at bedtime, but sleep in the closet in her little corner; she never slept on the bed with me – unless I was sick or sad. When my dad died, she slept in the bed with me off and on for about a month. It was like she could sense the nights when I needed her to be there for me.

My friend Shannon brought me Bridget my last semester of college. I took 21 hours that semester and worked full time, so how I was able to raise a kitten I have no idea. I guess that’s why she was so independent. Bridget moved with me 11 times. She never complained, she just moved with me and adapted. She lived with dogs, she lived with teenagers and she even lived in an apartment that didn’t allow pets – all just to be with me, her momma.

She once got stuck in between the kitchen cabinet and the wall – I think I had to take part of the cabinet out to get her out! She used to love to roll around on the concrete patio, especially if it was sunny. I bought her lots of cute cat toys over the years, but she was never very impressed with them. Bridget preferred to play with Q-tips, tampons, twisty ties, milk rings, makeup sponges, rubber bands and hair bands, erasers (she would chew them to bits!) and most of all, cotton balls.

My apartment seems so empty now. It’s amazing how such a small creature had such a large presence. The hardest part is walking into my apartment from the garage. I expect to hear a kitty meow through the door and when I don't, my heart sinks. I get up and walk to another room and instinctively look for her, then I realize she's not there. I cannot believe how much I miss her. It’s left a hole in me, just like when dad died. My cotton ball tears eventually stopped tonight and turned into a smile. I know that my baby’s in a better place, surrounded by as many cotton balls as she could possibly want.