I feel far away from writing sometimes. Like really writing. I have lots to write about. Cool trips, cool products. But when writing becomes too obligatory, it loses it sparkle and meaning.
So I’ve been heading back to Jana’s Thinking Place to check on her Stream of Consciousness Sunday prompts.
When I originally started the idea (that Jana is so graciously continuing) it was because my mind was blank. Not blocked. Just blank. But sometimes when you let your fingers do the typing, it’s not as blank as you might think.
I’m going promptless this week and writing instead about a topic inspired by one of Jana’s other posts.
It’s all about feeling helpless.
Jana’s got a baby boy just like I do. Although hers isn’t really a baby anymore. Neither is mine but I’ll never stop trying to cuddle him.
He’s growing up really fast. It’s like once he hit 5, he’s already heading towards teenagerhood.
But nothing brings us back to that Mommy-baby relationship faster than him being sick. I excel at home nursing skills. I’ve taken care of cuts and scrapes and bruises and burns. And even though my child always insists it’s the end of the world and he’s going to die (where DOES he get his flair for dramatics?), I’m always able to help ease the pain and nurse him back to health.
My pets are a bit like my children too. They scatter their toys and mess up the house and demand my attention even when I don’t feel like giving it. In return, like children, they give an awful lot of unconditional love.
It’s why I’m feeling so helpless lately. When my pets are ill, I can’t explain it to them. They can’t tell me how they’re feeling. I’m not even sure how to best take care of them.
But it’s my job. And I do the best I can. I just feel so helpless.
My little toy poodle Emma, my throwaway dog from a puppy mill who came to me half blind and toothless, can’t seem to catch a break.
Over the summer, her eye that was clouded by a cataract developed glaucoma. She lost any sense of vision in that eye (no light, dark, shadows) and we came close to having it removed.
But she still had one good eye!
And one day, a few weeks ago, I looked at her and realized her good eye had suddenly become clouded. Almost overnight a full cataract had developed rendering her pretty much completely blind.
I was devastated.
Oh, dogs are really adaptable.
She’ll get used to it in no time.
But it’s not that easy. She’s scared because she can’t see. She’s confused when she can’t hear me and doesn’t know if I’m home. She gets stuck in places because she trusts herself to go up but not down.
She’s my baby girl and I just feel so helpless.