Like all old married couples most of my enlightened interaction with my significant other comes in the form of oddly placed, off handed snippets of conversations based on our friends mis-fortunes and mishaps, or random half-hour sitcoms that all too often remind us of the life we are missing with our butts firmly ensconced on our equally outdated living room couch.
How often do we realize who we are, or, more likely don't want to be, based on our interactions with others? If you are like me, middle-aged, and taking that long dismal look into the abyss of the mirror that self-reflection curses you with, then you know what I am talking about.
The other night while attempting to displace the stress of our days work we sat zoning on the couch in front of the tv while a classic old film played. The main characters were a dapper black and white couple facing some oddly too coincidental sequence of events that left the tissue box on high alert. The tense, tear jerking moments of the scene revolved around how they would characterize each other once one of them was gone. Now I need to take a step back and set the stage of my personal life with you all all better. I have been married to my husband for 12 years. We were engaged for 4 years before we jumped into the big commitment. Based on the chronological time alone, we are supposed to know each other at least fairly well. Right?. Our life is boring, repetitive, and conditioned. We are not young, dapper, or fresh to this spinning blue-green marble. With age grows malaise and temperament. In consolation for this you achieve a bit of settled compromised resolve. (Or, so you think?)
True tests of relationships, whether they be long or short term, might just be surmised by a sitcom snippet. When I turned to ask my husband how he would describe me, he replied and described me as thus; "loves animals."
Two words. My whole four decades of being here, almost half of them with him, are reduced to two words? I am. I'm only. Two words.
I breathe....
I contemplate.....
I resist...
I would hope to be....
More Than.... Two Words.
I excused his curtness, and gross inaccuracy, to "Being Tired."
But, it hurt. I was wounded to hear that he thought I was only this. Surely, I am a bit more complex than one dimension?
What I wanted him to say was;
-crusader
-animal advocate
-entrepreneur
-feminist
-artist
-athlete
-passionate
-writer
-journalist
The point is I guess I am living a life that doesn't represent who I think, hope, try to be? Or, maybe I am over complicating everything? (Again?). Maybe being passionate, crusading, and the rest are small parts of the most important and most notable part of me? I mean it could be worse? Right?
Back to the drawing board I go.. Large eraser, dry erase board clearing, and chalk dust mask in place. I am doggedly determined to get it right for the second act of this one woman show.
If anyone is looking for me, I will be sketching in my art studio (after I dust it), smelling the roses, lilacs, and glorifying in the beauty if the trees, grass, and critters outside my window, and, walking in the woods with my pups who all too often play second fiddle to whichever dying, desperate pet at the clinic that has captured my current focus.
I forget to take time to do these things. And, I LOVE these things. (I, at least, I loved to do these things).
I need to become more visibly literal. If the one person who I think knows me can't see me for the complicated, deep, drama queen I know I am, then, I have to be better at marketing myself.
I am, therefore, considering wearing more politically charged t-shirts. Placing brightly colored caricatured tattoos of Rosie the Riveter on my forearm, and donning a newsboy cap and referring to myself in the third person as "gumshoe." I can convince everyone I am more than my all encompassing and demanding 7 am to 10 pm job! (If I can find the time).
If there is one thing every vet knows to be true it is that life can be tragically, unexpectedly, and unforeseeably short. There isn't one vet who hasn't had to tell a tear drenched client that their 4 month old pup won't live to see tomorrow due to being born with an organ never equipped to last as long as it miraculously already has. The one year old non-responsive immune mediated landslide case. The two year old cat dying from cancer. The client who cannot afford the Hail Mary only attainable by the specialist two states away. Or, the client you saw just last week, who appeared to be perfectly fine, but died yesterday from a demon they kept hidden from the public. It is life. Precious. Precarious. Perfect on it's own mysterious terms.
This isn't a dress rehearsal, and tomorrow isn't promised to any of us.
Find me anytime at Pawbly.com. Our free question and answer site dedicated to educating, empowering and saving pets lives globally. I am also at the clinic, Jarrettsville Vet in bucolic Harford County, Maryland. We are open 7 days a week and available the rest of the time via our Facebook page. You can also find more pet care information at YouTube, and Twitter. You can find our complete Price Guide to all of our services at our website, jarrettsvillevet.com. (Yes, that's right folks. We tell you what we charge for everything!)
The other night while attempting to displace the stress of our days work we sat zoning on the couch in front of the tv while a classic old film played. The main characters were a dapper black and white couple facing some oddly too coincidental sequence of events that left the tissue box on high alert. The tense, tear jerking moments of the scene revolved around how they would characterize each other once one of them was gone. Now I need to take a step back and set the stage of my personal life with you all all better. I have been married to my husband for 12 years. We were engaged for 4 years before we jumped into the big commitment. Based on the chronological time alone, we are supposed to know each other at least fairly well. Right?. Our life is boring, repetitive, and conditioned. We are not young, dapper, or fresh to this spinning blue-green marble. With age grows malaise and temperament. In consolation for this you achieve a bit of settled compromised resolve. (Or, so you think?)
True tests of relationships, whether they be long or short term, might just be surmised by a sitcom snippet. When I turned to ask my husband how he would describe me, he replied and described me as thus; "loves animals."
Two words. My whole four decades of being here, almost half of them with him, are reduced to two words? I am. I'm only. Two words.
I breathe....
I contemplate.....
I resist...
I would hope to be....
More Than.... Two Words.
I excused his curtness, and gross inaccuracy, to "Being Tired."
But, it hurt. I was wounded to hear that he thought I was only this. Surely, I am a bit more complex than one dimension?
What I wanted him to say was;
-crusader
-animal advocate
-entrepreneur
-feminist
-artist
-athlete
-passionate
-writer
-journalist
The point is I guess I am living a life that doesn't represent who I think, hope, try to be? Or, maybe I am over complicating everything? (Again?). Maybe being passionate, crusading, and the rest are small parts of the most important and most notable part of me? I mean it could be worse? Right?
Back to the drawing board I go.. Large eraser, dry erase board clearing, and chalk dust mask in place. I am doggedly determined to get it right for the second act of this one woman show.
If anyone is looking for me, I will be sketching in my art studio (after I dust it), smelling the roses, lilacs, and glorifying in the beauty if the trees, grass, and critters outside my window, and, walking in the woods with my pups who all too often play second fiddle to whichever dying, desperate pet at the clinic that has captured my current focus.
I am, therefore, considering wearing more politically charged t-shirts. Placing brightly colored caricatured tattoos of Rosie the Riveter on my forearm, and donning a newsboy cap and referring to myself in the third person as "gumshoe." I can convince everyone I am more than my all encompassing and demanding 7 am to 10 pm job! (If I can find the time).
If there is one thing every vet knows to be true it is that life can be tragically, unexpectedly, and unforeseeably short. There isn't one vet who hasn't had to tell a tear drenched client that their 4 month old pup won't live to see tomorrow due to being born with an organ never equipped to last as long as it miraculously already has. The one year old non-responsive immune mediated landslide case. The two year old cat dying from cancer. The client who cannot afford the Hail Mary only attainable by the specialist two states away. Or, the client you saw just last week, who appeared to be perfectly fine, but died yesterday from a demon they kept hidden from the public. It is life. Precious. Precarious. Perfect on it's own mysterious terms.
This isn't a dress rehearsal, and tomorrow isn't promised to any of us.
Find me anytime at Pawbly.com. Our free question and answer site dedicated to educating, empowering and saving pets lives globally. I am also at the clinic, Jarrettsville Vet in bucolic Harford County, Maryland. We are open 7 days a week and available the rest of the time via our Facebook page. You can also find more pet care information at YouTube, and Twitter. You can find our complete Price Guide to all of our services at our website, jarrettsvillevet.com. (Yes, that's right folks. We tell you what we charge for everything!)
Thank you for sharing Dr. Magnifico, delightful to learn of your other passions and care abouts, and in some ways, "loves animals" probably captures many of them, because we see you Journaling and sharing your knowledge in these areas, and Jarrettsville Vet has become such a better place because of your advocacy and passion! Thanks for all you do!
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