I am trying to find purpose and dignity in these challenging days when the world seems increasingly dangerous, and when old age begins to dig its fingers in. I worry. I feel sad. I reminisce. On the good days, I glory in the sunshine, the memories, and the luck that are still with me. In the dark, I count my regrets and fret about the obstacles to come. I wait for the proverbial shoe to drop in this country, in the world and in my body, too. The motion of trees, the smile of blue skies, and the warmth of good friendships are the things that get me by. And cats.
I did not expect that among the comforts I would treasure as my life slows down are the cats who lie on top of me in the early morning, and settle next to me in the evening light. They have become my touchstones, and daily they remind me of my great fortune in the little things (and big ones, too). They give me hope that love of the earth and of each other will survive the threats and follies we see coming down the road. They assure me that even as I grow more fragile and forgetful, my cats will still be here. We all need such small talismans of hope and companions in the dark.