Yesterday was a tough day for me. It seemed that everything I saw on TV, including commercials, was enough to make me cry. The worst was when I watched a video about a little dog named Mason. Mason was injured during the horrific tornado outbreak that hit Alabama a couple of weeks ago. He sustained radial, ulnar fractures on both of his front legs. His family had no idea where he ended up after the storm. Yet, this little dog who was battered and starved crawled his way back home, and his family did not find him until 2 weeks later when they returned home.
This story was so sweet and wonderful, it broke my heart. You see, I have a little scruffy puppy that my husband and I adopted from the animal shelter when she was only 6 weeks old. Her name is Ismeralda (Izzy for short), and she is my heart.
The funny thing is I wasn't ready for a puppy. Ricky even had to talk me into getting her. I didn't want to be responsible for teaching her to go outside or having to clean up after her or her whining to be let out of her cage. But now I cannot imagine my life without her. To think her in the same position as Mason...I can't even go there.
Izzy has filled my life with such an incredible amount of joy and happiness, I cannot even begin to describe it. All she has to do is look at me and I melt. To look in her face is to see unconditional love, the creator's love, and the fact she is unashamed to show it, humbles me. Whether I am gone eight seconds, 8 minutes or 8 hours, she greets with such enthusiasm that, even on my darkest days, I have to smile, and I cannot imagine my life without her now.
As for Mason, he is in a shelter in Birmingham, I believe. I hope and pray the veterinarians can figure out a way to mend his legs, and that he will be able to join his family again.
As for me, I think I will head home and take Izzy for a walk.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Go ahead, label me
I guess it’s time for me to get the walker with the little tennis balls on the end. I knew that one day this would happen, but I figured, I had a few more years left. However, I have officially been classified as “a woman of a certain age.”
All I have to say about that is–what the helicopter? When did this happen? Obviously, it started when I was asleep or something. I definitely do not remember the Age Fairy coming down, hitting me with her magic wand, and saying “Ta-da! Today you have become a woman of a certain age.”
Okay, so I may have to see the colorist a little more often, and the prescription in my glasses may have changed. But I’m still me. I still workout both my body and my brain. I still try to look cute when I go out. I still want to have a good time with friends. (On a side note. Girl’s weekend coming up soon. Woo Hoo!)
But seriously, I don’t feel like I am at a certain age. Better yet, when does a certain age begin. Is it the same age for all women? Do we now receive a rewards points card or something? Do we automatically become smarter, sexier, or stronger? You know, actually, I think we do. How did I come to this conclusion? I will tell you.
Women of a certain age have confidence. We are comfortable in our own skins. Which, a younger man once told me, makes a woman sexy. Where does this confidence come from, you may ask? It's because we don’t let the little stuff get to us. We have been there and done that. We have done the worrying and fretting, and have come to realize all the gray hair and wrinkles we received for our troubles, can be taken care of with a trip to the salon and a good skin care regimen or (if you have the funds) a little nip and tuck. That makes us smart.
We have carried the mantle of mother, sister, wife, daughter, and friend. We have had multiple careers, and are still looking for more to do. We have realized that no matter how heartbroken you become or how devastating life can be, we must and do go on. That makes us strong. We are, in essence, the total package.
So go ahead and label me. Call me a woman of a certain age. I can take it. It is a title I shall wear with honor. But, I still think we need points card.
All I have to say about that is–what the helicopter? When did this happen? Obviously, it started when I was asleep or something. I definitely do not remember the Age Fairy coming down, hitting me with her magic wand, and saying “Ta-da! Today you have become a woman of a certain age.”
Okay, so I may have to see the colorist a little more often, and the prescription in my glasses may have changed. But I’m still me. I still workout both my body and my brain. I still try to look cute when I go out. I still want to have a good time with friends. (On a side note. Girl’s weekend coming up soon. Woo Hoo!)
But seriously, I don’t feel like I am at a certain age. Better yet, when does a certain age begin. Is it the same age for all women? Do we now receive a rewards points card or something? Do we automatically become smarter, sexier, or stronger? You know, actually, I think we do. How did I come to this conclusion? I will tell you.
Women of a certain age have confidence. We are comfortable in our own skins. Which, a younger man once told me, makes a woman sexy. Where does this confidence come from, you may ask? It's because we don’t let the little stuff get to us. We have been there and done that. We have done the worrying and fretting, and have come to realize all the gray hair and wrinkles we received for our troubles, can be taken care of with a trip to the salon and a good skin care regimen or (if you have the funds) a little nip and tuck. That makes us smart.
We have carried the mantle of mother, sister, wife, daughter, and friend. We have had multiple careers, and are still looking for more to do. We have realized that no matter how heartbroken you become or how devastating life can be, we must and do go on. That makes us strong. We are, in essence, the total package.
So go ahead and label me. Call me a woman of a certain age. I can take it. It is a title I shall wear with honor. But, I still think we need points card.
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