Musings on a Small Life

My birthday is next week, and I got a card in the mail yesterday from a friend in Montreal (actually my dad's second ex-wife). We always exchange b-day and Christmas cards, nothing unusual about that. But this time she had included a cheque for a small amount, so I could treat myself to some little thing. (She's the one who always takes her entire birthday week off to pamper herself and do whatever she wants--whether that's doing nothing or going to a spa or taking a trip, etc.) Her gesture totally took me aback, as she's not done that before. I didn't know how to take it--was she taking pity on someone whose funds always end up being doled out on bills and vets? Part of me feels like a charity case and I've been wondering whether I should cash the cheque at all. I called her and thanked her, of course. She meant it purely as a gift and told me it was for me (lunch or whathaveyou), not for the cats (lol), not even to put toward something for the new bed...

I got an unexpected gift a few minutes ago, an email from a blogger: I just want to thank you for your amazing comments to grieving kitty parents. Your words are so insightful and helpful. You write what is in my heart, but I can never seem to articulate. Thank you for being there for all of us. You are a comfort and a blessing. Of course I quickly replied to thank her for her kindness. Yet I don't perceive myself as being or doing this at all. Rather, I perceive only my limitations and my failures. In fact, I'm feeling rather despondent at this time, very much that I've utterly failed at life, for various reasons.  So her brief email is a blessing to me . And a reminder that how we perceive ourselves often isn't the same as how others see us, and that none of us ever knows how we might touch another Being, for the greater Good. Ripples in a pond. Image courtesy of Microsoft's Image Gallery and framed at Ribbet.com  Peace and Blessings...Pur...

Oh, sure, I'm busy video "taping" the sound of the neighbours insane kids, and the mother's bringing me leftover cake from their supper tonight (they had friends over). She didn't bake it, but that's neither here nor there. I think she's also passing some along to a couple of other neighbours; apparently it was a huge slab. Do I feel like the most miserable person on the planet? Yep. Am I going to stop "taping" the screaming tantrums, just to cover my a&&? Nope. Am I going to eat the cake? Yep, and probably with breakfast tomorrow. Not tonight; I'd never sleep. It was a kind gesture, no question. But does it give me the warm fuzzies toward them? Hell no! Which, as I stated, makes me the most miserable person on the planet, apparently.