life is good. really

I'm sitting in Union Station, readying to head home after my latest treatment in the western suburbs. The 2.5 hour travel time (one way) kinda sucks, but the WiFi at Union Station is free, and a super fast connection.

Sorry if the previous post alarmed anyone. Heck, I'm not sure how many readers are left here. (Except for B.-thanks for reaching out, honey!) Fact is, I was indulging in some single girl fending off Valentine's Day blues when I wrote that.

I'm doing very well. My prognosis is quite good. I've got a lot of support from friends, family, and work.  Under the circumstances, I'm a pretty lucky lady.

The trick is remembering that.

C.

Radiant

I just finished my first week of radiation therapy, treatment for my recently diagnosed salivary gland cancer.

Holy non sequitur, Batman!

What?

I have cancer. I'm undergoing treatment. It's Valentine's Day. I'm in a very different place then I thought I'd be, this time last year, when I was getting ready to move in with my boyfriend, starting to make plans for our wedding, and thinking about when to go off birth control.

Yes, this is so very different than I thought. But
I'm going to be fine. I am fine.

That's how I roll.

C.

Death and this maiden

I lost a favorite patient of mine last week.  His name was Dave, and he was a tall, lanky, goofy dog with black fur and a long nose.  I joked of FB that he looked like my cat would have looked like if he was a dog, or funnily like a guy I dated way back when, also named Dave.

Two people commented that it is the worst part of our jobs, the losing of a patient.  I don't agree.  Death is a part of what I deal with, both in my time in general practice and certainly in my time now in oncology.  Death is an inescapable fact of our existence, both in our witnessing of it and in the inevitability of our own demise.  And death isn't the worst thing I see.

Neglect.  Abuse.  Indifference.  These things are much harder to bear witness to.   The finality of death is unavoidable, but these other things are completely avoidable. 

So, even in my sadness, I'm glad I got to meet Dave.  I'm glad the joy of him touched my heart.  We gave him some quality time with his people, and I believe that they were grateful for that. 

And only when we say goodbye do we really know what something, or someone, really meant to us.

-C.

Just Tired

I put in a 57 hour work week between last Monday and yesterday.  I've got to pay off my new phone and repaired computer, and I'm grateful for the work.

But I'm just tired.  And I wonder if I'll always have to work this hard.

C.

40s and counting

Yesterday was my 40th birthday.  I spent the day making a new beaded necklace with matching earrings at my local bead store (Caravan Beads in the North Center neighborhood), eating Southern food, and meeting up with actors and crew for my friend's sketch comedy revue, which opened last night and on which I had the honor of serving as assistant director.  It's been great fun and quite enlightening to be a part of a theatre project again, and it was also nice to go out after and share a few beers with these guys, both to celebrate a successful show and my birthday.

I'd be lying if I said this birthday wasn't tough.  It's been an emotional roller-coaster, these last few months, and having a milestone birthday shortly after a break-up is no picnic.  Whenever I feel myself indulging in self-pity or becoming overly sentimental about the past, though, I remind myself of the many blessings that I have, and remember that the point of focus should not be what has happened or what might happen, but what I do with what happens.

In that regard, 40 is a hell of a lot easier than 20, or even 30.  Despite all of the challenges, fears, and setbacks (at least those perceived as such), I'm looking forward to defining for myself just what this coming decade will mean.  See you on the road.

-C.

Smooshed phone and the value of our lives

My phone got smooshed by a bus last week.  Expense and inconveinence aside, I had contact information as well as pictures and videos that I had neglected to properly back up.  Every day since I have remembered yet another number I must somehow retrieve, or another picture that I'll not be able to look on again.  My mind's eye holds quite a few of them, but there are those that I'll never recall and are now lost.

In today's world of abundant technology, it seems to me that I've lost some of the value just what it is that I have.  It is so easy to take a picture, or type in someone's number, and somehow it has actually made it easier to forget what it is that I like and need.  The only phone numbers I can recite are work related, and I had so many cute photos of flowering trees and funny pets and moments that I wanted to capture that I didn't hold onto them properly. 

Lesson learned.  (That, and the ever-important lesson of insurance for your phone).

-C.

A list

5 things for which I'm grateful today:

1.  My new apartment.  The location, size, amenities.  My building engineer has done more for me in three weeks than management at my last place did in 2 years (and they really needed to...).  The layout is clean and spacious, and my stuff fits well.  I've got lots of closet space.  The cats like the windowsills (which is very important, because I'm not home all day and when you think about it, that is their TV it's not like they work on their novels when I'm gone, ya know).  The less than ideal things (having to buy my own window treatments, odd showerhead, the laundry room being ALLLLLL the way over on the other side of the building) are so minor as to barely be worth mentioning other than to serve as a reminder that nothing, NOTHING, is perfect and it's folly to ask that it be.

2.  My sense of humor.  It's a good one, and hey, I have one and I'm always sad at so many who don't.  How the hell do you get through the day without laughing?  How do you get through life without sinking slowly into despair and staying there if you cannot find the funny?  Humor is not trivial.  It is a necessity.  Absolutely and can I have an amen.

3.  Lilacs.  They are beautiful, they always make me think of spring and my upcoming birthday when they are in bloom, and their fragrance reminds me of my childhood.  There was a lilac bush outside our house, and the scent I associate with home.  There is a lilac bush on the street that I walk down to and from my new bus stop, and my discovery of it just thrilled me.

4.  My cats.  I've had cats as pets for 11 years now and I cannot imagine life without them.  They are fun and funny and offer unconditional love and neverending affection.  And my first cat, Gracie, led me into the veterinary field, which has been the saving grace of my life.

5.  My recent breakup.  It is strange to write that, given the nature of the relationship, but I do strive for honesty and this is a truth, though I could not have seen it at the time.  I am grateful to be free of something that wasn't right for me or for him, and that it ended in such a time so that we can take our lessons learned and make better lives for ourselves because of it, not despite of it.  I knew that I would eventually reach acceptance, but I didn't know that I would actually be happier, even in the moments of loneliness that inevitably strike, now that I'm back on my own. A complete and welcome surprise, and I am ever, ever grateful.

-C.

The now

So it's been a while. I think about all that has happened since my last post, nearly 2 years ago. New position. New apartment. Ruptured tendon. New relationship. Sad goodbyes to furry friends.

Life turns on a dime. In good ways, tough ways, frightening ways. Change is the only constant.

Two years ago I would not have been able to predict all the change that would meet me in the time coming up. Two months ago I would not have been able to predict how much more change was awaiting, so jarring as to throw my world into upheaval in heart-wrenching ways.

And two weeks ago I would not have been able to predict that I would be sitting here, in a new solo apartment in my beloved Chicago neighborhood, with a new boss to answer to, new projects on my horizon, and new dating prospects to sift through, with a heart filled with gratitude, a smile on my face, wearing my battle scars with pride.

Predicting the future is bullshit, friends. Just enjoy the now, as I intend to.

 -C.

Because I am me...

After hearing a lot of friendly advice about the game of love, I've come up with my own theory:

There are one of four scenarios that can play out:

#1: You can do nothing, and the something that you want to happen will happen. (i.e-"the moment you stop looking, there he/she is!"

#2: You can do nothing, and nothing will happen (which has been me in the past, and certainly the countless Eleanor Rigbys who are out there in the world. "Ohhhh, look at all the lonely people.....")

#3: You can do something, and the something that you want to happen will happen.

#4: You can do something, and nothing will come of your trying.

And I don't believe that anyone, anywhere can accurately predict which of the four will manifest itself into my life, nor anyone else's. Regardless of experience, none of us knows the future; none of us truly has a grip on the seeming randomness of the universe.

I am the girl who would rather take action than none at all, the girl who chases the robber she knows will get away rather than sit stunned and victimized, the girl who grabs at all the shiny things around her and gets in over her head rather than the one who allows time to wash over her passively, because the weight of passivity is heavier to me than all the disappointments of the world can ever bear down.

That is me.

-C.

Mr. Spock Would So Call Your Bullshit

A brief recap of the Dating Blitzkrieg of 2011:

Sifting through an average of 20 profiles of prospective dates a week...

Engaging in no less than 50 email conversations therein since January 1st...

Going out on 13 first dates in five months. Twice, there were 3 in 3 consecutive days...

Crashing two speed dating events, at one of which I ran into a guy I dated 5 years ago who didn't seem to remember me. (Thankfully, he only had 8 minutes during which to tearfully bore me to death this time instead of 3+ hours)....

Going out on 3 second dates out of the original 13.....

Having one of the second-daters state we should stop dating when I asked why he wouldn't tell me his last name (after date 3 and when he asked me out for date 4)...

Having another of the second-daters evolve into a 4-months-long on-and-off thing that, looking back, I really only persisted with in the hopes of having someone around to have decent sex with on my birthday (which, by the way, was June 1st, and the answer to your next question is, sadly, NO!)....

Having the last of the second-daters be this warm, funny, kind-hearted man who has similar life goals as me and is good to his mother and really loves animals and is a musician which I soooo dig and is tall and handsome to boot, say to me, upon cancelling our plans for a third date (paraphrasing, of course):

"Hey, C. We've gone out a couple of times, had so much fun, I think you are an amazing person and we have this great connection. So let's not see each other any more because that's all too much for me to deal with right now."

I got a D in Logic and Critical Thinking, pal, but I was awake in that class long enough to call that a fallacy of logic.

Heavy, heavy sigh. Heavy-ass, mother-fuckin' sigh. I'm calling for a dating moratorium for the month of June. At least.

-C.

I know, I know...

...I say I'm coming back and I disappear. Sorry, loyal readers.

There has been a lot going on. There has been illness; nothing life-threatening, just a bad flu bug that felled me for nearly 10 days. Nothing like Mom Nature reminding you that your body is not always ruled by your will. I don't recall the last time I even had the flu. College, maybe? I spent 3 whole days of the last month lying on my couch, achy and exhausted, sipping water-downed Gatorade and wondering how anyone managed to get through a flu season before TV series came out on DVD. Ah, it was a time known as the Dark Ages...

There is dating. Lots of dating. 2011 is becoming The Year of the Date. I'm embracing the meeting of new people if for no other reason than I've got some great bar stories. I mean, you can't go to a speed-dating event in a city of several million but manage to see a guy you went out with six years ago and not have a great story, right? It's coming, it's coming...

There is also a new job. In specialty. Internal medicine and oncology. I saw an opportunity and leapt at it. It seemingly fell through, but I kept my eye on the ball. And the effort paid off, big time. I've been in this game for 9 years now, in a profession where the average burn-out time is 4. I've scrimped and studied, sandwiched school time between multiple jobs, put aside my social life and my sanity in the hopes of acheiving something special. There have been countless times that the effort seemed for naught. Lots of moments when I looked at the body of a dead pet and fought against the urge to run the other way. I persisted, blindly much of the time, running on the fumes of faith, believing that all the work and sacrifice might some day be worth it despite the many, many indicators to the contrary. Now I'm on the other side, with a remarkable career opportunity in front of me, and it's mine. And I'm ready and eager and going for it. There are exciting changes coming around, and I'm riding the crest of the wave. And loving, loving, loving it, maybe all the more because the path to here was such a challenging one.

Right now, I'm staring down the barrel of a 60-hour work week, a little daunted, but how many people get to spend a 60-hour work week doing something that they love? Really, folks, how lucky am I?

-C.

I'm baaaack (but quietly-shhh!)

Hi, kids!

So I'm making my way back into the blog-o-sphere. It's been awhile. I started blogging initially to try and present myself in a more open and cohesive fashion, and it was a great way to exercise some writing muscles while keeping the near-and-dear a little nearer. I loved it. I found it freeing. I found it relaxing. I found it taxing, and scary, and strenuous, and sweet.

Then I got tired. I got a little weary, too. I needed some cyber-space, if you will. Strange to say, I mean, it's the INTERNET, C., how does that possibly crowd a person? Yet it did, and I pulled back, focused on my non-cyber pursuits (work, school, dating, creativity, friends, pets, events and non-events). As of late, though, I've been itching to make my way back to it. Touch base via this medium and stretch the muscles of mind and hand once more. That said, my perspective is a bit different now. I'm not willing to put my thoughts out there for any random internet-loper to stumble across. I want to discuss more personal matters without fear that doing so will interfere somehow with my professional life, and I've found that, a few years and some life-lessions later, I feel in myself more free and more coherent than I did when I first dipped my toe in the blogging pool. So instead of presenting a tightly edited version of me to the world, I'm looking to loosen up a bit but in front of a more select audience.


If you are looking to remain a "A Work in Progress..." reader, know that I will be making this a private blog soon. I'm still figuring out how that works-do I send invites to be accepted, or just wait for you guys to message me? I'll keep you posted, trusted readers. Take it easy, or just take it any way you can get it! *wink*

-C.

e-dating

So here's what I find interesting about online dating. Say you are in a social setting. You see someone. They see you. There is spark, attraction, a lil' sumpin' sumpin'. Then you talk, find out a name, a little about who they are and what brought them there. And then, maybe, you get a number, you give one, you go out. Then you take the steps necessary to get to know each other. At least, that's what we hope for.

The online thing is different. You have a profile. You add visual appeal with digital photos. You write a little something about yourself, present the best possible you. There are lots of templates for you to note particulars about yourself, like whether or not you like kids, or sushi, or the latest Coen Brothers' film. You look at other profiles; you gather information. You make contact, you make small talk, you make a plan to meet. And then you go out.

You go out. You meet for the first time, the FIRST time, with a load of information that you would not have if you had met in, say, a bar, or church, or work, or whereever people meet in the non-virtual world. You have the information, but not truly, in my humble opinion, a sense of who the person is. It's like being on a second or third date and a minus-one date all at the same time.

I'm not judging the merits of this process. Just saying that it is very, very different than what most of us are used to, or had planned.

Thinking about this makes me want to eat a big stack of pancakes. I'm not entirely sure why.

-C.

Back to the juggling...

...of jobs, that is.

I went to a friend's birthday celebration last week, which happened to be at the last restaurant that I worked at 8 years ago. I was a server there for two years, in the time right before I fell into animal services. It was a decent enough gig; fun people to work with, good food & brew, and it paid the rent with fewer hours than I put in now. Of course, having a chunk of cash in my pocket usually meant that it got partied away. Given that I missed out on a lot of partying in college (working 2+ jobs & taking classes full-time), I felt justified in making up for it in my mid-to-late twenties here in Chicago. Boy, did I ever make up for it! (See prior posts' hintings at tequila misadventures).

Anyway, I was chatting it up with my old manager, going over old times (isn't it interesting how the distance of time can make even the mundane seem nostalgic?), and I told him about my leaving my green apron job, and about going to school, and about how I missed having the flexibility of a second income. Then he offered me my old job back part-time. I was really surprised; I know that the downturn of the economy has not been kind to the restaurant industry. That, and more and more people are turning to second jobs to save their ship. But the offer was sincere-I got confirmation yesterday that I'll start retraining Sunday.

Bring the black pants, the black shoes, a supply of pens & a notepad. The shirt and the gumbo apron will be provided.

On the one hand, I've really enjoyed the time that freed up once I scaled down to a single full-time job. I'm a little sad to know that there will be less of it available to me for knitting, movies, coffee with friends. That said, there are school expenses coming up, vet care to pay for (discounted does not mean free, yo), not to mention wanting to take more writing and theatre classes down the line. I worked damn hard to get myself out of debt and have no intention of seeing that build up again. It's been my experience that you can have time, or you can have money, but only rarely do you have both. So then comes the compromise, so then comes the striking of a balance. I'm ready to concede the one for the other, for the time being.

And you know, going back to something you did before gives you the opportunity to see where you came from, and how you've changed. I'll visit my late 20s self and see just how different, and just how similar, the late 30s self is to her.

Plus, the gumbo is great there. Good, good stuff. Come by to see me and have a bowl-just don't forget to tip!

-C.

Doing better...

Got a B on my latest Anat/Phys exam, and am feeling better about the whole thing. I've got very little margin of error left, though, since I did so poorly on the initial exam which will pull down my average considerably. But I'm on the right path.

Lots to do. School is challenging, as is the job. I'm trying to take on some volunteer work with a local performing arts troupe, and I'm in two book clubs and learning how to knit socks.

Busy. Busy. Busy. And it's a good busy, which I have to remind myself when I feel stretched thin.

-C.

Not a great start

My semester is less than 2 weeks old, and I'm already in a pickle. Remember the whole drama with the video project for Surgical Prep & Assistance 3? I thought that once I past that hurdle that I would be golden. Executing all of the clinical tasks has been the most challenging part of my schooling; all the theory has been in the way of online tests & emailed assignments, and since I read pretty well, I've scored virtually straight A's.

Now I've got Advanced Anatomy & Physiology pounding me down. My first quiz was a B; my first test (taken today) was (gulp) a 60%. That's big fat D, friends and web-neighbors, the lowest grade I've gotten since Art History 110 back at CSU (which is where I fell asleep during lecture EVERY SINGLE CLASS).

I'm assured that I can still pass the class, so long as I average 70% or better overall, and a 70% or better on the final exam. While I'll be doubling my efforts, I cannot help but be discouraged. In large part, because I know that, very simply, I've not been as motivated as I have in the past. I was much more productive & focused when I was working two jobs; the constant movement forced me to be highly organized & efficient (not to mention somewhat reclusive, which is not healthy emotionally but boy, you can sure get things done). Now that I'm down to a single job, and I've had some time to have some fun, all I want to do is knit, play with my pets, read for fun, and hang out with my friends.

But I've got to do well in this class. Forget my G.P.A., or even learning for the benefit of my patients. It would be $460 to repeat the course.

Just because I'm not motivated by greed does not mean I can't be motivated by money.

Peace,
C.

EVENTS... and everyday (and yarn, lots of yarn...)

It's a brand new year, y'all. I know this because I'm currently nursing a hangover. Three vodka drinks isn't much for most partygoers, but New Year's is about the only time I ever go all out with the drinkin' thing these days. (Oh, and at office holiday parties were the boss shells out a boat-load of cash for top-shelf hooch, and where I decide that since the beer list really sucks and the boss DID shell out all that cash that it would be okay to drink tequila even though the last time I drank tequila back in '01 I woke up trapped under my bed still drunk and crying and praying to God to let me survive being trapped under my bed while promising to never, never, NEVER drink the evil tequila drink again and making good on that promise for many years after and making many, many people laugh at the why-Colleen-doesn't-drink-tequila-anymore story while dodging offers of free shots and being perfectly happy to drink beer instead since it is my drink of choice but damn, that tequila sure goes down smooth even after a nearly 9 year break especially when it is top-notch stuff and then the next day waking up not under my bed but properly in my bed but too hungover to move much or even knit and yet still not regretting hopping off the no-tequila wagon and realizing that God is often very good at forgiving us our drunken promises....)

Oh, yeah, where was I? New. Year. Right.

So it's a new year, which is ripe for reflection and resolution. About this time, we watch the news and see all the Big Events that took place in our world. Events like:

-the inauguration of a new president

-the impeachment of a governor

-the deterioration of our economy

-the bravery of a pilot

-the loss of the Olympics

-the death of a music star

-the death of a movie star

-the death of a Senator

-the deaths of servicemen/women

-the health care debate

-H1N1

-Octomom, Jon & Kate, Balloon Boy's parents, and the hundreds of other losers who pathologically crave attention, even negative attention. And, sadly, they get it.

And then there is the reflection of the smaller events that shape our lives, like:

-the adopting of new pets

-taking a break from school

-changing jobs (full-time ones)

-paying off debt

-quitting jobs (part-time ones)

-the deaths of pets

-taking a writing workshop

-the deaths of friends

-starting back at school

-the birth of a niece

-online dating

-learning a hobby

Last year, I took up yarn. I decided that I needed a hobby, a constructive way to relax, and chose to learn crochet. First, I learned how to make a slip knot:

"Hold the end of the yarn in your left hand, then use your right hand to make a loop of yarn about 6" aways from the end of the yarn. Pass the top strand of yarn under the loop, then pull a new loop up through the first loop."

Then, a chain stitch:

"Make a slip knot and place it on the crochet hook. Loop the working yarn around the hook and slide the hook through the slip knot, pulling the wrapped yarn through the slip knot."

The single crochet stitch. The double crochet. The half-double crochet. The oft-ignored triple crochet. Increasing, decreasing, fastening off. I made big messes, I had to tear things out & start over. And with each stitch, each task performed well and each mistake, I learned more and more, and soon and sure enough I was pumping out projects. Dishcloths, scarves, baby blankets. A kicky beret (why don't we use the word "kicky" more often?). A coin purse, a pencil case, a cozy for my Ipod.

It occurred to me, as I was thinking about the new year while punching out another scarf for a friend, that all of the projects that I've worked on, they start off with a Big Idea, but are then created one loop at a time. Kind of like how our lives aren't defined, truly defined, by the Big Events of the news, or even by the not-as-big events of our lives, but by the everyday. The little things, the mundane things. How we act at the bus stop, the grocery store, at our jobs and in our homes. These are the things that make up the fabric of our lives. The loops and stitches that build them. Like:

-performing a task well for its own sake, not because someone is watching us

-sharing a moment with your co-workers, all of you working towards a common goal

-enjoying a good movie

-enjoying a good book

-hearing that song on the radio that always puts you in a better mood

-laughing with a friend

-eating a good meal

-drinking that really great cup of coffee

-listening to the purr of a contented cat, or the happy bark of a playful dog

-engaging in a flirtatious glance across the proverbial crowded room

-hearing "Thank you", "Please", and "Excuse me". And saying them.

-a smile, a giggle, a hug, a kiss. Moments, just moments, but they are what build our lives. For me, for the new year, I want to master the art of living every day, instead of just focusing on "events".

Here's to wishing everyone here a blessed, kicky 2010, filled to the brim with a million fabulous little moments. See you at the yarn sale.

-C.

A sigh of relief

I found out today that my final video project for Surgical Prep & Assistance 3 passed. I can't say exactly how relieved I am. It was a 90 minute video of me checking in a surgical patient, performing a physical exam, discussing anesthetic agents, pain management, stages & plane of anesthetic depth, going over the parts & function of anesthetic equipment. Oh, yeah, and placing an IV catheter, performing a surgical shave & prep, inducing & intubating a patient, cleaning & maintaining all aspects of surgical equipment, demonstrating a sterile scrub, going over suture materials & patterns, etc., etc., etc. Talking & showing with a camera on me, and with no notes of any kind. It was a matter of learning the material, then writing a script, scheduling time for filming, executing the tasks at hand, and the entire project was pass/fail.

Did you read that right? Nine different task categories, separated into 4-7 sub-tasks each, and the whole of it PASS-FRICKIN'-FAIL! Meaning that despite my ace-ing Levels 1 & 2, and ace-ing all the written material in the class this semester, and having checked off all my clinical tasks at the practice, I could have failed the entire class if even a small portion of my video was deemed inadequate. To say the least, it was a really stressful semester.

But I passed; nay, my instructor Dr. Badass (I mean, Dr. Black, respectfully) even pointed out that I was very thorough in my execution and explanations. Which I'm taking to mean I didn't merely pass, but excelled.

'Cause I'm a veterinary medicine rock star, y'all. Oh, yeah, am I feelin' it.

Now, on to Food Animal Management & Advanced Anatomy. Then I have to find some horses, apply a tail twitch, draw some blood, & clean the sheath. (And, in case you are wondering, that means what you think).

Peace,
C.

Clowns and Tragedy

I found out that another former co-worker of mine (from Starbucks, this time), has passed away unexpectedly. He was most recently the manager of the Starbucks near my practice, so I saw him on a semi-regular basis. The day before I found out, I went in that Starbucks for a quick early-morning cuppa, and I do remember thinking it was weird that he wasn't there. But I figured that maybe he was just on vacation.

I recall working one night with Mark at the Wrigleyville store. Mark was one of those upbeat people, sometimes annoyingly so, but I knew by then that a lot of strife lay beneath that persona. Opera was playing on our sound system. I think I commented on one of the arias, bragging about my season tickets to the Lyric, wanting to sound so sophisticated & worldly, so much more so then the milk-stained green apron I was donning would imply. Then I thought out loud that another piece sounded like it was from La Traviata.

"Oh, no," Mark said, "This is I Pagliacci. The tragic clown." Then he talked about the opera itself, the particular production, the tenor, the history of the piece and other pieces by the composer. I was impressed, and a little embarrassed at just how little I knew, and by my presumption that he would not.

I saw I Pagliacci this past spring. It was fantastic, and I wish I had taken a minute to talk with Mark about it. It would have been a lively discussion; I can hear, in my head, his booming voice and boisterous laugh.

The tragic clown. Ironic, Mark, given the circumstances of your passing, (too sorrowful for me to state here)that I will now always associate that image with you.

-C.

Glad I was there...

I was in the middle of my fifth hour of overtime this Saturday when a client was talking to me about her dog. She & her husband had recently adopted him from a local rescue, and she was peppering me with questions about diet, nail trimming, behavior. She looked down at her scruffy little mutt, who looked up at her and licked her hand. She had never had a pet before, she said.

"And I had no idea how much joy he could bring into our lives."

Then she smiled a big beautiful smile. Her eyes were lit from the inside, and I smiled back at her, knowing exactly what she meant.

Thank God for moments like that. Really. Thank you, God.

-C.