I did a blog in January from my husband's hospital room. He'd just had a knee replacement. I had intended to blog about the hospital amenities and wireless. (Hence the "connected" title.) But instead I blogged about how people, places and things are connected in powerful ways.
That blog was long forgotten until tonight. I'm back in my husband's hospital room. He's just had knee #2 replaced this morning. I've done my Nurse Nan routine (get your brains out of the gutter). And now it's time to blog. After I booted the computer, I noticed a blog draft on my laptop called "Connected." Curious, I pulled it up and found that January blog.
And, in the process, completely convinced myself that everything is connected. Everything. Often in ways we can't understand.
A dear friend just lost her cat, Cleo. The loss wasn't unexpected but it was still heartbreaking for her. Last night her neighbor put out an SOS for a home for a tiny, tiny kitten found at the roadside, probably abandoned, probably not four weeks old. So, last night my friend spent o'dark thirty and the rest of the pre-dawn hours with "boob kitty," who was happiest snuggled in her bosom. The week before she'd spent long nights in worry over and with her Cleo, who we knew was dying. If Cleo had hung onto this world for another week, little Butters wouldn't have the home she desperately needed.
There is an odd and powerful symmetry in life which I find endlessly fascinating. I believe the best fiction contains that same powerful symmetry and connection. Symmetry is about closure and balance. We all like that.
Tonight hubby and I feel like we've turned the corner. Chronic pain will now be a thing of his past. All that's left is a little acute pain from rehab and he'll have his life back. He can take morning walks again. We can go back to fighting about my sprinting across parking lots to keep up with him. (I'm vertically challenged and have the leg stride to prove it.)
Tonight I'm left pondering the connections of life and feeling déjà vu. Only this time I don't have to wonder why this moment feels familiar. I know why!