Timing

When my husband was dying of cancer, existing in a morphine haze, he offered me some advice.  He told me to "pay attention to timing and the alphabet."  Having no idea what he meant by that, I assured him that I would.  I've lost count of the times that those words have come back to me, pointing me in a direction I never would have found otherwise.  And they came back to me today.

When I went to bed last night, I was 99% convinced that I would be putting my cat down today.  I'd already scheduled the appointment for 4:20 this afternoon.  And then I woke up this morning to see that not only had my cat pooped (for the first time in a week) but she had also eaten at some point during the night (again, for the first time in a week).  So now I was no longer 99% certain.  I struggled throughout the day, and as the hours drew me closer to the 4:20 "deadline," I'd worked myself into quite a state.  There were arguments compelling me in both directions, and I was dizzy with the indecision.

And then I received a text message.  Tracy is a friend of my daughter Jenna, the one who is living in Australia.  Over a week ago, Jenna had asked Tracy if she might be able to stay here with Cassie while I am away next week.  I had avoided contacting Tracy, simply because I was so unsure of what I was going to do.  But here was Tracy, taking a risk, contacting me to ask if she could help.  Timing?

Fast forward to a couple of hours later.  Tracy came over after work to meet me and Cassie.  ("Work" is as a veterinary assistant at a nearby animal hospital . . . could this be more perfect?)  Now, Tracy and I have some mutual friends, and her older sister was a student of mine, but I didn't think Tracy and I had ever met.  But as soon as I opened the door, I realized that it was Tracy who had ushered me into an examination room when I'd taken Cassie on an emergency visit to the very animal hospital where Tracy works about a month ago.

So Tracy fell in love with Cassie, I cancelled the euthanasia appointment, I have cobbled together three caring friends to look after Cassie while I am gone, and the weight of the world is off my shoulders . . . for a little while anyway.

So you might wonder where the "alphabet" part of Pete's words comes in.  Maybe this is a stretch, but I'll buy it.  When Tracy texted me, I asked her for an email address, as I still have a "dumb phone" and texting is not that easy.  The first three letters of Tracy's email address, obviously her initials, are "teh."  My "nickname" is Terry, and I was often just "Ter."  But my very best friend's boyfriend, with his New York accent, always called me "Teh" and it caught on.  I know it's a stretch, but I made a promise that I would pay attention to timing and the alphabet, so pay attention I have.

All I know is that I feel lightened.  I feel hopeful.  I feel blessed.  I paid attention.