Loving a cat can mend a wounded heart. Mimi's miaow soothed mine for sure. Her little face caught my tears. She passed away at home today.

Losing a miaow

What is it about my cats? They ignore me, get fur all over the furniture, scratch me with their claws and yet somehow have managed to wrap themselves around my scarred heart like a big red valentine with LOVE written all over it.

 I have had nine cats since 1982. The day before I got my first cat Babie, I would have said I didn't like cats. Now....they are my sweet babies and I can't imagine my life without several little (or big) fur balls.

My Mimi Louise is dying. She has bowel and kidney cancer and her lymph nodes are involved. Mimi is 15. She is crabby, sweet, lazy, aloof, scared of Izzy, feisty and a liar. She promised me on my heart after Fuzzy, her brother, died that she would be around forever. Yes, we talk to each other. Of all my cats Mimi has been the most vocal. She starts conversations and answers me when I talk to her. I truly believe she understands what I say and knows when I am upset and need a kitty kiss or encouraging miaow. I love her beyond words. I hate seeing her the way she is now....pottying outside the box and being embarrassed, falling over or just sitting down because she is so tired. She has lost 4 pounds in 2 months....this the cat that has been on a diet since she was one. At one point she was over 25 pounds......how much over we don't know because the kitty scale topped out at 25.

 I had lost my boy kitty, Magic, the year before Mimi was born. A girl at work had a Siamese that had escaped the house and came back pregnant so a litter was available. Three babies were born....one Siamese that had dibs on her right away....a boy kitty...my Fuzzy that I had asked for before they were born.....and Mimi. No one wanted Mimi. She was just a "plain tabby" according to her then owner. When I went to pick up Fuzz he was napping with Mimi and I fell in love with her then.  Yup, she was a tabby alright....but, she had ticked fur with orange tips and green eyes....she was beautiful to me.

 Mimi is my last So Cal kitty. She bounced along with us in the RV when we moved to Idaho in 1998. I guess of all my cats I thought she had the least chance of living a long life because of her weight. She was one of the first cats at our vet office to go on a special weight loss diet food. We tried getting her to be more active. She was the first guinea kitty to have a harness and leash for walks. She revolted every time we tried to take her outside and would flatten herself on the garage floor and refuse to move. She lived for the occasional kitty snack, would give her best try to jump onto the counter where the other cat food was so she could steal some....but never succeeded. All she ever wanted to do was eat, nap, potty and get an occasional hug on her terms. Instead she was relegated to 1/3 cup of food spread throughout the day and teasing from anyone who saw her. No wonder that she smacked everyone from family to friends to workers. Now, when she can eat whatever she wants she isn't hungry.

We have to make a decision soon. I hate doing this. I can't imagine not having her here. Steve is devastated and even Izzy the terrorist has stopped chasing her. I love you Mims, Mimila, Moo, my sweet, wonderful Mimi Louise.

I use a photo of Mimi as my profile picture and she has a page located on my Facebook home page.  She could have been a Vogue model....yes she could. 

Another Mother's Day. It's just Sunday really. Yup, feeling sorry for myself. No Kids here, no grand kids either and I still have one great-grand child I haven't met. My fault. I moved to Idaho; no one forced me. It's just that we had plans and things were different before the gigantic recession....more visits to So Cal, more kids here, more of everything family so I wouldn't feel like this every time a special day rolled around. Oh, poor me.

My mother. I miss her...not every day, not just on Mother's Day...but I miss her a lot. I miss those few times we actually had fun together, seeing her with my kids when they were small, giving her gifts, feeling the comfort of my childhood home and the wonderful taste of her Italian cooking. I wasn't really close to my mom. She was as difficult to love as I am. She wasn't a hugger or mommy-kiss-and-make-it-better woman. I can only remember 2 times she told me she loved me and both of those times were when she was dying. But, when I was a kid she was my movie star. She had thick, fierce black hair, wore deep red lipstick, was full figured, and could dress like she was ready for a fashion show. She smelled like Avon. Today I miss her....a lot.

 I have tried to be a different mother than mine....not the nicest thing to say I guess. But, I am a hugger, a kisser, a crier, a misser of my kids of all generations. It took a while for me to become the mother I should have been, but I hope being a late bloomer is OK with my kids because I love and miss them every single day all day long.

Muddied Crystal Clear Thoughts

I plan on living a long, long time.....heart stuff listen up!  I am going to see my grandchildren and great grandchildren become the people I know they will be and that is nothing short of wonderful humans. The story I am going to tell will make you want to comment (if anyone reads this anymore) stuff like stop that and buck up, think positively, get over it....whatever.  But, facts are facts and I am at a point in my life where "things" need to be taken care of and my affairs need to be in order. I'm not morose, sad or fatalistic....I'm honest. Steve and I both know I will probably die first.

Last year when I was in monitored cardiac rehab (versus maintenance like I am now without a monitor) I met a guy that had a heart attack and stents like me. His wife came with him every session and they would both be dressed in WalMart tan and blue and no, at that point, I had never seen either one of them in WalMart. He was and still is an ill tempered man, she was/is a happy spirit. They attended classes with Steve and me and he balked at every single suggestion, lesson and fact. He was not giving up coffee, was going to eat what he wanted, eventually dropped out of rehab because he was going to buy a bike, and his most ridiculous statement was that he already had a heart attack and why was he taking all of those pills if they weren't going to fix everything.

His wife was the polar opposite saying she would see to it he followed all the rules and was going to buy that bike herself and make him exercise. She was changing her lifestyle and he would too. We talked off and on and I liked her. Of course after he left rehab we saw them all of the time at WalMart; just saw them last Wednesday.

Right around Christmas time we went shopping for last minute dinner things. The wife was at the greeter station sitting on one of those fancy walkers things.....seat, basket, hand brakes...all the bells and whistles. I went over to talk to her like I always did and asked if she had fallen or broken something. With horribly slurred speech she told me...with a smile....that she had been diagnosed with an aggressive form of ALS, but Walmart was going to keep her employed and working as the official greeter. I was stunned. She was like sunshine in summer. Each time I have seen her after that she has been a little less vocal and always sitting on that walker. But, she still has that radiant smile. We see her husband all of the time too....he is still Grumpy, The Grinch, Mr. Rain Cloud.

Last Friday Steve took me out to a movie and dinner.....senior discount at the movies and Subway for a healthy Februany $5.00 foot long. When we walked in guess who was in a booth.....yup, there they were. We ordered our meal to go....sandwiches only no chips or soda.....and on the way out we stopped to quickly say hello. There was Grumpy tearing small pieces off of her sandwich and putting them in her almost floppy, tremulous fingers so she could chew and swallow easier.....and as we went out the door with the picture of them in my mind I thought....what will Steve do without me. Telepathy. Steve said I know what you are thinking and I don't know how I will manage......and he hugged me.

Did I mention we went to a seminar on Revocable Living Trusts? 

My cat's smarter than your dog.....

I received the first and I hope the last email "Annual Christmas Update From Our Family to Yours." Yup, an email; they couldn't even spring for an envelope and stamp so I could open the damn thing, gag and then tear it up. I HATE, HATE, HATE these mailings. Hate them.  I think the worst one we ever got was from a then 55 year old friend (former friend) who had just graduated from Junior College in early December and he included everything from his grades to his favorite teacher in his "update." We usually saw this guy and his wife several times a week.   He ended the update with a request for money so he could start a graphic design business.   No.

I swear, one of these years I am going to send an 'Update" with the following: All of the kids own Fortune 500 companies, the grandkids are either at MIT or are Rhodes Scholars, the great grandkids are starting school at age 2 and can quote Shakespeare, we are doing great with retirement and our 17 billion dollar 401K fund and are thinking of buying Sandpoint. Seriously. Oh, and I have a snow shovel and cabana guy.

I know what it means now

I got a call this morning that I never heard....there was a message left that I didn't get until about an hour ago.  My cousin Gerri had called to tell me her brother, my cousin Sam, had passed away this morning.

I have few adult memories of Sam. He lived in Virginia and I was in So Cal and Idaho. I visited once a number of years back and we had dinner, but the awkwardness of shared childhood memories, spouses there that would need long explanations and the public place hindered any real bonding. I was closer to Gerri...by phone admittedly, but as a result of our calls I kept up with Sam's doings.

I spent every single summer with Sam and Gerri until 1961. Sam was all boy; fishing, gigging for frogs and lobster trapping with our dads. Sam was on the cusp of manhood that last summer; driving his old Rambler all over town and graciously taking me along on his adventures a lot.

The last time I talked to Gerri I shared a comment Sam had made on my Facebook page about having a heart attack and stent placement and how he never bothered with rehab and ate what he wanted. Gerri told me that after Sam's wife died he just sort of died a little each day too. He loved his daughters and family but his zest for life was fading. He had broken his leg, was diabetic,  had several surgeries recently and it just got worse from there.

I'll miss Sammy...not the man so much but the boy I knew.....that hearty laugh, the soft Virginia drawl I wanted to copy so badly, remembering the three of us sprawled out by the front door trying to catch a breeze so we could sleep, his frank comments to me that hot summer of '61.  Gerri was pregnant  and I told Sam I wished I was having a baby too...he almost screamed and said: Are you damn crazy girl? Look at her; she's as big as Momma and Daddy's house!"
 
After talking to Gerri about all that Sammy had been through in the past and recently, I finally think I know what Rest In Peace means....Sammy deserves it. 

Really?

I'll get right to the point.

Its' been a year since the "event." Yup, a year since I had a heart attack.  I MADE IT TO A YEAR!!!!

I have researched and researched and Steve has done even more research about longevity after the kind of heart attack I had with stenting and there really isn't much info out there. But, a year after anything is a landmark, right?

I'm 26 pounds lighter, can max out the incline on two treadmills at a pace of 4.1, have decided to hate the recumbent bike this month, am almost at 6 minutes on the stair climber and can swallow an entire serving of fish. I am proud of all of these achievements. I have had some help....Steve is the best support ever and I can't overlook the following: Plavix, Cozaar, Metropolol, Hydrochlorthiazide, Simvastatin, Advair, and Aspirin. Onward to year two!

Now, if I could just get Mimi Louise to hit the litter box rather than potty with her front feet in the litter box and her butt outside of it life would be perfect!

Huh??

I have a question, or maybe a wondering, or maybe I am just a little more than weird.

I was reading a fellow blogger/Facebooker's comment on his 40# weight loss and a recurrent thought went through my mind.

I know I have lost 25 pounds. I can see it in my face, feel my ribs, I have collar bones I can see and touch and I wear a size 4 jeans (and a size 10 dress....how does that calculation come about?). But, I still think I am 140 pounds, still feel like I have a bigger body and wonder when I go to bed if I am going to wake up my old heavier self. While I may fit in those new jeans they don't fit in my brain. It's sort of like if I splurge and eat a doughnut those 25#'s are going to reappear in an hour.

I exercise every day, I am following my diet faithfully, take my meds on time twice a day, go to rehab every Wednesday, my labs are great....I am doing what I am supposed to do but I am also waiting for those shoes to drop and at the moment of that thudding noise I'm not Cinderella anymore.

What's up with all of this weirdness?

I can't swim but I'll wear a life vest.....

20 years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails.
Explore. Dream. Discover.    Twain

I hope I have 20 more years.  However much time I do have I need to get that  sailboat ready now.  Thank you Delci for sending this to me.

Going downstairs

I remember a time when I had to post a blog every day. I took on blogging like I do everything else.....obsessively and compulsively. Guess I had a lot to say then; lots of words needed to be written. Not so much now; maybe I have said all I need to say.

My life has changed. Having a heart attack has defined my every day. While I won't say it was a blessing to have gone through all that I did seven months ago, it brought front and center what is important in my life and that is my family, my amazing, wonderful husband and waking up every morning and having another chance to enjoy life.

I have said this too many times but I started blogging so my children would know me better, know about my childhood and life before there were kids. But I would much rather talk to them than write to them. I looked back through some of my old posts and they were empty; just mental meanderings of day to day stuff that said nothing about me at all other than I hated winter when Steve was gone, spent too much time talking to cats, dogs, squirrels and bambis and my forest was stunning in photos. So, Rosemary's Attic sort of needs to be swept, some things put in boxes and stored and maybe left alone to gather a little of life's dust for a while. I won't abandon it but I will step back and take a harder look at what I have written and think more before I write in the future.

So, here is my definition now: I exercise every day for at least 40 minutes. I eat bananas, apples, raisins, wheat and grains (even sticky oatmeal!) and fish. My back rarely hurts anymore, I listen to my heart beating every night before I fall asleep. I tell Steve I love him every time I look at him, I still clean like a weirdo but I take my time and enjoy moving the vacuum around and think about how it has helped me stay strong, I read my power thought cards and spend at least 10 minutes alone every day and just try to quiet my mind. I have lost 22 pounds, gone through two drug reaction episodes and come out OK, passed my nuclear scan, kept my lab results in great shape and together Steve and I have weathered a job loss, near financial ruin, a Medicare doughnut hole with my medications, the loss of my beloved cat Fuzz, rescued yet another feral cat that is currently living in the pole building, we are surviving another record making snowy winter AND I'M ALIVE!!!

I will continue to roam through Facebook although I really don't "get" that site, and I still read my blogger friends posts, I just don't comment. And best of all....I am going to be a great-grandmother twice this year. Christopher and Penelope are having a baby girl Adele and John and Laura are having James.

I am happy, blessed and loved.