For giving me perspective…

I’ve been dedicating Fridays to my past Facebook posts about Oscar. Today, however, triggered by some memories that I’ll write about later, I went back to read some of my past private journal entries. This one struck me and I wanted to share…

4/14/14: It’s Monday night. On Wednesday morning I “move” to Washington DC for a three-month work contract. I have many conflicting feelings. Professionally I know this is a good move for me. Financially I know I need this contract as it’s April 14 and I have been without steady work, and subsequently an income, since the first of the year. Emotionally, I’m trying to embrace the uncertainties as an adventure, after all I am a seeker, but my soul is tired. I’ve been making up everyday as I go along over the last three and a half years and my narrative has gone from believing that when you follow your heart, everything works out to, what is it that I’m doing wrong… why can’t I catch a break?

Oscar, the "Big Guy" and me. A family photo in our favorite apartment in Bogota.

Oscar, the “Big Guy” and me. A family photo in our favorite apartment in Bogota.

As I crunch to finish up my application for a professional certification that costs a lot of money I don’t have right now but I think it will make me more competitive in the workplace, pack for the next three months, make peace with my divided emotions about leaving Colombia and begin the third term of my grad school residency program, Oscar is sitting on my lap licking my hands. This prevents me from typing and getting work done. Part of me wants to have him stop, but the other part remembers when he was about 1 year old and just had all his shots. He was tired and not feeling well and only wanted to sit on my lap. Instead of just cuddling him, I was in the garden pulling weeds. I was working intensely at the time and the weekends were the only time I had for house and lawn work. Oscar kept coming and sitting on my lap because he didn’t feel good from his vaccines. It was adorable, yet I was so wedded to my to do list that I felt I couldn’t break from my yard work. He’d come to cuddle and I’d pick him up and put him on the lawn so I could continue pulling weeds. It’s one of the only things I regret doing (or not doing) with him.

Tonight as he licked my hands and arms and I couldn’t type, I thought back about that time. I decided to stop writing for a few minutes and enjoy the time with my little guy. He is now rewarding me by simply cuddling in my lap. Again I stop and just pet him and silently tell him thank you. Thank you for loving me despite my neurosis. Thank you for giving me perspective.

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