2020, Be Gone!

As this terrible year finally approaches its end, all I can say is 'Be Gone!'

Has a year -- any year -- ever been this horrible for so many people? Not in recent history. I would guess that the closest any year has come to bringing so much death and suffering was 1918, when the flu pandemic ran rampant. Estimates are that some 50 million people around the world died of the flu, with some 675,000 American lives lost. Coronavirus, by contrast, has so far killed more than 1.78 million people, 338,000 in the US. And these horrible figures are despite great improvements in health care since 1918. The holiday surge in travel is expected to dramatically increase the number of infections and deaths in the US. And a new, more contagious variant of the virus has appeared in several countries, including the US.

Millions have lost their jobs or had their hours cut dramatically. More than 100,000 businesses have closed for good. Children and teachers had to learn about remote learning via computer. Incidents of domestic violence and suicide increased, as did sales of alcohol. Millions are facing loss of homes and apartments.

On a personal front, this year saw the death of my dog from cancer, following the loss of her sister a year ago. That's two deaths in just more than a year. My cousin, her husband and their two high school age children came down with coronavirus. My close friend lost her 15-year-old dog to cancer. An online friend lost her 5-year-old dog to cancer. Another friend just lost her 14-1/2-year-old dog. A neighbor lost her nearly 13-year-old dog to cancer. I have been unable to travel due to the pandemic. 

People are waiting in line for eight or nine hours for a box of food. Non-profit organizations are struggling to survive as donations and volunteer help dwindle. I developed kidney stones and went through three treatments to get rid of them. And now I have new ones.

The Republican party continues its ridiculous attempts to overturn the will of the people and install an autocrat as King Donald I. That won't work, of course, but it shows how desperate and depraved the party has become as it struggles feverishly to turn American into an oligarchy, where power and money are held only by a small group of old, white men. 

The cult followers of the would-be autocrat must be dealt with as they try to destroy the country and attempt to return America to a nation where only white men have power. Minorities and women must, in their view, be put in their places. As the new administration will be inaugurated -- an administration with a -- gasp!! -- woman of color as vice president, and a cabinet that represents the diversity of America -- these throwbacks to the 18th century are beside themselves. They are desperate to hold onto their 'white men only' version of America. They are losing power, and they are terrified, which makes them desperate as their 'dear leader' encourages their violent, hate-filled resistance to the rule of law.

So yes, let us put this horrible  year behind us. Let us start the process of healing our country, a country that has come close to being destroyed by a psychotic autocrat who has no interest in governing, but who wants only the power and attention he so desperately craves. Let us say goodbye not only to the year 2020, but also to the the horror of the past 4 years.

 

A Time to Look Forward

What single word do you use as you look forward to 2021?

I can think of several words that describe my feelings about the coming year.:

• hope 
• renewal
  
• relief 
• recovery 
• recuperation
  
• progress
• restoration
• reclamation
• healing
  
• rehabilitation
• normality
• reclamation
• mending
• revival
• repair
• rebuilding  
  

There will be disappointments, setbacks and failures, to be sure. The radical right will continue to throw obstacles in the way of the Biden administration, and it will continue to do everything it can to set the administration up for failure. 

But this is the first time in 4 years I feel hopeful about the year ahead. We have a new administration with a more compassionate, inclusive, sane and reasoned approach. New vaccines should help bring the pandemic to a close.

So I think a reasonable amount of hope is definitely called for.

 

The Worst Year

This year sucks.

Sorry about the crude expression, but it does. There is no other way to describe the year 2020. It has brought death on a massive scale. It has brought increased rates of suicide and domestic violence. It has brought massive business failures and job losses. It has brought stress, fear and anxiety. It has brought hours-long lines of people waiting for food from food banks. It has brought hoarding of groceries and toilet paper. It has brought out the best and the worst in people.

Has a year -- any year -- ever been this horrible for so many people? Not in recent history. I would guess that the closest any year has come to bringing so much death and suffering was 1918, when the flu pandemic ran rampant. Estimates are that some 50 million people around the world died of the flu, with some 675,000 American lives lost. Coronavirus, by contrast, has so far killed more than 1.78 million people, 333,000 in the US. And this pandemic continues to spread and the virus mutates into an even more contagious variety.

Millions have lost their jobs or had their hours cut dramatically. More than 100,000 businesses have closed for good. Children and teachers had to learn about remote learning via computer. Incidents of domestic violence and suicide increased, as did sales of alcohol. Millions are facing loss of homes and apartments.

I know four people whose dogs have died of cancer, two that died of other causes, and one person whose cat died, all in 2020. My dog died of cancer. My sister's dog is battling cancer. 

We lost the incredible jurist Ruth Bader Ginsburg to cancer. An online friend's mother recently died and her father is very ill. A former coworker lost both parents to the virus in a couple of weeks. He and his wife both had the virus. My cousin, her husband and their two teenage sons had the virus, with my cousin still struggling to recover.

On a personal level, this year saw the death of my old dog, following the loss of her sister a year ago. That's two deaths in just more than a year. I have been unable to travel due to the pandemic. I developed kidney stones and went through three treatments to get rid of them. And now I have new ones.

People are waiting in line for eight or nine hours for a box of food. Non-profit organizations are struggling to survive as donations and volunteer help dwindle.

I have been unable to pursue my passions -- travel and photography -- that keep me sa, ne, motivated and challenged. 

I watch as the outgoing president* does everything he can think of to overturn the election and sow mistrust about the democratic process. He continues to ignore the death toll of the pandemic, offering not one word of sympathy to those who have suffered from this horrible virus or who have lost loved ones to it. He continues to hold massive rallies and large holiday parties that spread the virus. He surrounds himself with lunatics from the fringe who encourage him to declare martial law to enable him to stay in office despite his overwhelming loss at the polls in November. He finally signed a bill that offers some small measure of relief to struggling Americans, after waiting until hours before the deadline as his sick mind works to do everything possible to keep himself in the spotlight.

I, along with millions of others, are counting the days until this nightmare ends. But even after he leaves office, the damage he has done to this country, and the damage he undoubtedly will continue to do, remains a real threat. 

As this terrible year finally approaches its end, all I can say is 'Be Gone!'

 

 

 

Always Believe, Always Hope

I started writing early on Christmas morning.

I listened to Christmas music as I ate breakfast. And that was the only thing I did to 'celebrate' this day. The Christmas spirit skipped my house this year. 

I haven't been into Christmas for several years, but this year has been especially difficult. Isolation and the inability to travel have taken a toll on me. And losing my dog to cancer earlier this month has left a residual sadness that surfaces at random times.

But I have to believe that things will improve in the new year. After all, what is a life without hope? What kind of life would it be if I had no hope? I do believe that life under a new administration will improve, although it will be a slow and difficult process. I hope that people who have been kinder to themselves and others during the pandemic will continue to do so, and that those who have been overcome by selfishness, greed, nastiness and hate will start to change their attitudes. 

We must believe that we -- the ordinary, everyday people -- working with public health officials and vaccine producers, can and will conquer this pandemic. We must believe that we can return our nation to what it was 4 years ago and make it even better. We must believe that we can -- indeed, we must -- tackle the problems of social and racial injustice. We must address economic inequality in this country, insuring that everyone -- including billionaires, multimillionaires and huge corporations -- pay their fair share of taxes. I'm not suggesting that we punish the super rich and hand out money to the less fortunate, but the current system of taxation cannot be sustained. We must believe, and make it so, that we can transform our corrupt, elitist, out-of-touch political system to better represent everyday people.

We must believe, and insist, that everyone should have access to affordable health care. If other developed countries can provide health care and a college education at little to no cost, we must believe that America -- the one of the wealthiest countries on the planet -- can do so as well.

We must hope that America will at last take action to address the climate crisis. It won't be easy, and it won't be cheap. But it must be done if we are to continue to inhabit this earth. And as the saying goes, 'there is no planet B.'

It isn't easy in the face of a pandemic, high unemployment and business failures, and after suffering through 4 years of blatant corruption, ineptitude, nepotism, greed and graft. But as difficult and overwhelming and hopeless as things may seem, we must not stop believing in the possibility of a better America.

 

 

Unexpected Kindnesses

By any measure, 2020 has been a really rotten, sad and difficult year for just about everybody. Everybody, that is, except for the billionaires whose net worth has increased by several billion dollars.

Despite the horrible death toll and the large number of people who survived the virus with possibly lifelong problems, my personal life has had a couple of bright spots recently. And this year, I need all the bright spots I can get.

An online friend, who also is an animal lover, made a donation in my dog Layla‘s memory to the Morris Animal Foundation, which does life-saving research into a variety of diseases and conditions that afflict our companion animals.

After my dog died, I had a package of doggy diapers that I no longer needed. So I posted them to give away for free on a local bulletin board. When the woman came to pick them up, she brought me a hand crocheted comfort and prayer shawl. Unfortunately, the two from which I could choose were a bit small. So a few days later she brought a larger one and left it at my front door. I certainly wasn’t expecting, nor was I asking, for anything from her. I was just happy to find someone who could use the doggy diapers. But I really appreciated the thoughtfulness of the gift.

I recently was sent to the emergency room. As I wasn’t sure whether I would be admitted to the hospital or not, I dropped my remaining dog off at the boarding kennel where he stays when I’m out of town. I picked him up the next morning, and was pleasantly surprised that there was no charge for his stay.

Yesterday I received a box of my favorite candy (pecan Turtles) from my sister, and a box of several kinds of goodies from a friend in North Carolina. I will have to enjoy all these treats slowly, as I am trying to lose weight. But the thoughtfulness packed in each package was a sweet treat indeed. 

These small and unexpected acts of kindness mean so much more this year among all the suffering and negativity. So thank you to everyone who has reached out with kindness.

My Christmas Wish List

I remember when I was a kid, putting together a list of what I wanted for Christmas each year.

Two of the things I really wanted one year were a record player and a 45 rpm record of one of my favorite songs. It has been many decades since I was a child, and I don't make wish lists any longer. Material things long ago lost their allure. But this year, I do have a list of wishes. Among them are:

• to adopt a golden retriever from a rescue organization or humane society as a companion for my dog, who now finds himself an only dog following the death of another family dog this month
• an end to the pandemic
• vaccinations for everyone who wants one to protect against the coronavirus
• a new, compassionate administration (that one is coming in 30 days)
• economic recovery so people can return to work and businesses fully reopen
  
• an end to recurring kidney stones
• being able to travel again
• the restoration of hope among the populace
  
• never hearing or seeing the orange blob ever again

 

That's it. I have started the search for the golden retriever. I'm making changes to my diet to decrease the chances of developing new kidney stones. I have no control over the other things. I hope that with a new administration that actually cares about the American people and that will lead by example, things will start to get better. Having a country led by actual leaders who work for the benefit of the country rather than their own interests will start to turn this country around.

That would be the best gift of all.

In Search of Christmas

 I have tried.

I have tried to get somewhat in the Christmas spirit this year. But it isn't going to happen. I am currently listening to Christmas music sung by the angelic voice of Irish singer Enya. I listen to Christmas music in my bedroom and in my office. Nothing. There is no holiday spirit this year. No baking. No buying gifts for others. No cards. Nothing. 

Truth be told, I haven't done much for Christmas for several years, since my daughter started living on her own. In years past, even when living alone, I would put up a tree, put a wreath on the front door, set out Christmas decorations, and bake a variety of cookies. Now none of that seems worth the effort. I am trying to loose weight, so making cookies or fudge doesn't make sense. I am continuing to donate to several of my favorite charities, especially those that provide food to those in need. But that is something I do throughout the year.

This has been a tough year. I know half a dozen people, four of them my relatives, who have had Covid-19, and one of them lost both parents to the disease. All others have survived, fortunately, but the long-term effects remain to be seen. My dog died this month of cancer, suddenly and unexpectedly. Her sister died 15 months previously, suddenly and unexpectedly. I have been unable to travel, something I typically do several times every year. And I now am dealing with more kidney stones, despite having three laser treatments that supposedly got rid of them a couple of months ago. Chronic discomfort (it could be so much worse) doesn't put me in a holiday mood.

I am watching the current administration continue to bungle management of the pandemic, this time delaying the shipments of critical doses of the vaccine that offers hope to bringing this pandemic to an end. Meanwhile, a couple thousand people die of the virus each die, hospitals and healthcare workers are on the verge of collapse, and rich people such as Rupert Murdoch get the vaccine while frontline workers can't.

So it has not been a good year. I am cognizant of the fact that I am very fortunate in many ways. I am retired, so there is no job to lose. My house and car are paid for, so there is no concern about losing either of those things. I have plenty of food available. I have health insurance and I am in pretty good health overall. Things could be so much worse.

Let us hope that 2021 will bring us some relief from the virus, from the hatred and division that so plague our country, and that the Christmas spirit will again find its way into my heart and home.

A Christmas Memory

I am doing absolutely nothing for Christmas this year.

I’m not decorating the house, I’m not doing any special baking, and I’m not even putting a wreath on my front door. I stopped mailing Christmas cards several years ago. All I have done is listen to some of my Christmas CDs.

But as I was walking outside today, something brought to mind things that my now ex-husband and I used to do at Christmas time many years ago in northern California. I worked for a federal agency that was located on a naval air station. The gates were guarded by sailors, usually very young sailors. So every Christmas Eve, we would put together two plates of goodies and deliver them to the gate guards. Each plate would include such things as cookies, both homemade and store-bought, homemade fudge, and fruit cake.

The guards were always so shocked and surprised to be handed two plates of goodies on Christmas Eve. I would guess that many of these young people were experiencing their first Christmas away from home.

Of course, such a random act of kindness aren’t possible anymore. I’m sure there is a prohibition against accepting homemade goodies due to the threat of poisoning or other nefarious acts by hate-filled or otherwise sick people.

We carried out this tradition for several years, complete with our dogs in the backseat of the car. It was a quick but rewarding action on Christmas Eve.

I miss the simplicity and freedom to do these things that we had back in the 1980s and 1990s. Today’s memory brought back warm feelings in a very dismal and difficult year.

A Meaningful Life

“To make life a little better for people less fortunate than you, that’s what I think a meaningful life is. One lives not just for oneself, but for one’s community.” 

I love this quote by the late Supreme Court justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg aka RBG.

What a wonderful philosophy of life!  RBG devoted her life to helping the greater community by fighting for equal rights for women, for members of the LGBTQ, disabled and immigrant communities. Having faced discrimination when she was beginning her legal career, she made it her mission to help secure equality for women. Because of her, women no longer need a male to cosign applications for credit cards, loans or mortgages. Because of her, women can approve, or not, medical treatments, without a male. She fought for equal pay for both women and men. 

RBG was a trailblazer her entire life. She was the second woman and the first Jewish woman to serve on the Supreme Court. She was the first tenured female professor at Columbia Law School. She was only the second woman to serve as a law professor at Rutgers University. And even in death, she was the first woman and second Jewish person to lie in state.

What a meaningful life she led. We all would do well to emulate her philosophy of life. If we live a meaningful life, we are likely to feel at peace with ourselves, with those around us, and with the world at large. It doesn't mean we don't have disappointments, struggles and challenges. It doesn't mean that we stop trying to make things better. 

RBG flourished in the face of adversity, both personal and cultural. She used her considerable talents -- her intellect, her determination, her understanding of the law, her tenacity, her ability to articulate her beliefs, her incredible work ethic -- to literally change American society for the better. 

This tiny woman, who was only 5'1" tall, had a huge impact on American jurisprudence.  She was respected and admired by millions, and feared by those against whom she did battle in the courts.

We miss you, RBG.

 

Give A Little. Help A Lot.

As we prepare for the winter holidays, as unusual as they will be this year, please take a moment to reflect on the many things you have that many Americans do not: a warm place to live, clothing, food in the pantry, a vehicle to take you where you need to go. Then, if you are so moved and if you can spare a few dollars, please send a donation to a charity that helps the hungry, the homeless, those who need warm winter clothes.

The need is so much greater than usual this year due to the pandemic. People are lining up in their cars for hours to get a box of food. Food banks are struggling to meet the demand as millions of people suddenly jobless are in need of assistance. Anything you can provide -- a couple cans of soup, a box of cereal, a jar of peanut butter or whatever you can donate to your local food bank or food pantry -- can mean so much to those in need. Some churches, temples and other religious institutions offer hot meals to the homeless. One in three children and one in five adults in my state are at risk of hunger. I buy extra food when I spot a good sale on non-perishable items, and save it until the next food drive. There is always a need.

And times are really tough for homebound senior citizens, who may be unable to go shopping, be unable to afford the food they need, or be afraid to venture out during the pandemic. For this reason, I started donating to Meals on Wheels this year. I have made two donations so far, and plan to make at least one more before the end of the year. In addition to nutritious food, volunteers also provide companionship and a welfare check.

As challenging as this year has been for everyone, let us remember how fortunate we are. I have plenty to eat, a warm house, a good car and warm winter clothes. I can afford to keep the lights and the heat on. The least I can do is to share my blessings with those not as fortunate.

Won't you join me?

Be Someone Who Cares

 I am tapped out.

I am out of sympathy for the millions of willfully ignorant people who deny this pandemic. For those who still refuse to wear a mask and to avoid large crowds. For those who ignored the pleas of public health officials and infectious disease experts who urged them not to travel for Thanksgiving. Now we are seeing the results of their ignorance and selfishness. 

I no longer care about these willfully ignorant people. I do care about all the innocent people they have infected. And I care about the healthcare workers who have died because of willfully ignorant people. I care about the healthcare workers who are being pushed to the brink while trying to save people who didn't care enough to try to save themselves. I care about the physicians who soon will be forced to decide which patients receive a hospital bed and treatment, and which do not when the hospitals are filled to capacity.

I am saddened by the deaths of the thousands of people who did the right things but got infected anyway. I am sorry for the spouses, the siblings, the children, the parents, the grandparents and the friends of those who did the right things but died anyway because some can't be troubled to wear a mask or to stay away from bars. 

I have relatives who have been sick with Covid-19. One of them, who is diabetic, was hospitalized. She is home now, but still quite sick. Her husband and teenage sons are recovering. 

I get it. Wearing a mask isn't comfortable. It makes my glasses steam up. Some masks hurt my ears. It isn't 'normal' for those of us not in the healthcare professions to wear masks. But you know what? Nothing about life during this pandemic is 'normal.' Knowing that close to 300,000 of my fellow Americans have died during the past 10 months is not 'normal.' Wearing a mask helps protect me from getting sick, whether it's from the coronavirus or the flu. Wearing a mask also helps protect others from any communicable disease I might have, such as asymptomatic coronavirus, the flu or a cold. 

Most of us are not being asked to wear a mask all the time. Wearing a mask for 20 or 30 minutes every week or two when I go grocery shopping isn't a hardship. It doesn't make me look fearful or weak. Being asked to wear a mask doesn't violate my rights and it isn't unconstitutional. It does make me look like someone who doesn't want to get sick or possibly infect others. It makes me look like someone who cares.

Not wearing a mask makes people appear selfish or ignorant or both. Being selfish and ignorant, and putting those qualities on public display, is nothing of which to be proud. 

Please, make the small sacrifices needed to get this pandemic under control. Yes, vaccines are on the way, but it will take several months to vaccinate enough people to make a difference. 

Please, be someone who cares.

In Search of 'The Perfect Gift'

The holidays are upon us.

Christmas. Hanukah. Kwanzaa. And several others. Television is filled with non-stop ads for "the perfect gift." My mailboxes (both physical and e-mail) are overrun with appeals from a variety of charities -- some of which I have never donated to -- for funds. Some appeals come in multiples.

My almost-14-year-old dog died a week ago after being diagnosed with lymphoma and losing the ability to use her legs.

As we all know, this year has been one for the record books, and not for anything good that happened. More than 285,000 Americans have died of Covid-19, and the experts are predicting a huge surge by the end of the year. Thousands more have survived with potentially permanent damage to their lungs, hearts and brains. My cousin and her entire family are recovering from the virus, but she remains quite ill.

I am not able to travel, something I love to do. And last week, my area got some 4 inches of snow. Much of it has melted. I don't like winter, and I especially don't like snow. In October, we got more than 7 inches of snow. And in a normal year, we get little snow, if any.

So I tried to think of something -- anything -- positive to both lift my spirits and to improve the world in which I live. All I can come up with is to donate money to the charities that mean the most to me. I don't need, or want, anything as a gift. I have all I need, and more.

So I made an online donation to the Sheldrick Wildlife Trust, which rescues, treats and cares for orphan elephants in Kenya. I donated again to Meals on Wheels to provide nutritious meals to homebound senior citizens in my area. I donated again to Road Runner Food Bank, which has been hit very hard due to the huge increase in people needing food assistance. I will donate to the hospice in northern Illinois that cared for my father at the end of his life. I donated to the Memphis Area Golden Retriever Rescue from which I adopted one of my golden retrievers. I donated to the Elephant Crisis Fund in Kenya with the proceeds from sales of my photo calendars. And chances are good that a couple of additional charities will get a year-end donation as well. I also have signed up to donate blood later this week.

My dog's treatment and assessment cost thousands of dollars. Property taxes are due this week. Car and property insurance are due this week. And the final payment on a hoped-for trip to Tanzania next year is due -- this week. 

But I can't take the money with me when I die, so why not spend some of it now to make this sad, sorry world a better place? Why not use my blessings to help provide food for hungry people ... to help provide compassionate care for the dying ... to help African elephants whose populations are being decimated by greedy humans?

To me, sharing my blessings and donating to causes I support -- those things are 'the perfect gift.'

 

After the Loss

I had to have my dog euthanized yesterday.

I, of course, shed tears yesterday as the veterinarian gave me the bad news about Layla's worsening condition, as I contemplated the decision I had to make, and when my dog was euthanized. I shed tears this morning when I saw a photo of a couple of girls in Kenya paying their respects to a favorite wildebeest, by kneeling next to him and putting flowers on his body.

So the grief is there. It's below the surface. And it is pervasive. I know I made the only decision I could make. My dog was dying of lymphoma. I believe she would not have survived more than another day or so. 

So today as I went about my business in pandemic-induced isolation, I didn't shed many tears. But what I do feel is a deep sadness. I continue to do what I have always done, and that is to look for her as I walk through my house. 

Yesterday, I folded her blanket and placed it on her bed in my bedroom. When I went back into my room a few hours later, the blanket was no longer on her bed. It was still mostly folded, but it was on the floor, not on her bed. I like to believe that this was her way of letting me know that she had arrived on the other side and that she is OK. And she is still with me, albeit in another form.

It isn't often that I get a sign from a deceased dog, but it has happened twice previously. In the first case, I could hear the jingle of my dog's tags once or twice after she departed. I caught a glimpse of her peeking around the corner, as she often did. And a few months after Layla's sister Bailey died, I felt the 'bop' of a dog nose on my finger. I was on the phone with a good friend when it happened, and I immediately mentioned it to her. One of my dogs was in the back yard, sleeping in the sun. Layla was in the living room. So I have no explanation other than that Bailey paid me a visit.

I'm not sure how I feel about ghosts and spirits, but I know that I felt the 'bop' on my finger. I know I heard the tags jingling. And I know where I had placed the folded blanket. My remaining dog never goes into my bedroom unless it's to follow me in there.

My little dog could be a challenge. She and her sister, who died a bit more than a year ago, had attitude. I always said they were little dogs with big attitudes. They could be difficult. But when I adopt a dog, it is for that animal’s natural life. My dogs get the best food, the best veterinary care, the best home.

This death hit hard because it was very unexpected and the cancer progressed so quickly. I can, however, take some comfort in knowing that a wonderful team of veterinarians and support staff took care of my little one during the last four days of her life. We did everything to find out what was causing her problems, and what could be done about it. 

And I know that now she and her sister are once again reunited. As littermates, they were inseparable in life, and now they will be together for eternity.

Missing Her Already

 I miss her already. 

My little 20 pound dog, who will turn 14 on February 5, has been in the hospital being tended to by a veterinary neurologist, for the past three days. We’re still waiting for final confirmation, but it appears very likely that she has lymphoma, a tumor in her spinal canal with cancer cells that have spread to various muscles. She finally took a small amount of soupy dog food, drank water from a bowl that was held up for her, but she still cannot use any of her legs. Her prognosis is not good. We had hoped that an injection of steroids would help shrink the tumor and help her regain some mobility, but so far that has not happened.

Given her age and my unwillingness to subject her to surgery or any kind of invasive procedures, the future does not look good. As I told the veterinarian, I have had a difficult relationship with this little dog. She has not been an easy dog, and I confess that I have been less than patient with her at times. There were times when I could swear she was pressing my buttons on purpose. I know she wasn’t, of course, but there were so many times…

Her sister died a year ago in September, so losing this dog comes far too soon.The only consolation is knowing that she and her sister will be reunited, and she will no longer be in distress, whether physical or mental. She is getting outstanding care, with the pain and anti-anxiety medications, the IV fluids and antibiotics, that support her body's efforts to strengthen.

Sadly, sometimes a body has done all it can, it has fought its best fight, and the best medical care in the world isn't enough. A friend told me to let her go. I replied that I won't let her suffer, but I won't make that final decision until the medications have had time to work. And if they don't work, then I will let her go.

Already my house seems empty, despite the presence of my other dog. When I walk into my bedroom, I reflexively look at her bed in the corner to see if she is there. I still have beds, blankets and towels spread out in the bedroom and in the living room, where I placed them for her return.

I have shared my home and my heart with 13 rescue dogs over the years. I mourn each one. Regardless of how long each is with me, it's never long enough.

Dreading the Holidays

I dread the holiday season.

I really do. I hate the fact that businesses start their push for Christmas buying in August. August! I hate the constant ads for 'the perfect gift.' I hate the scenes of perfect families gathered around the dining table or the Christmas tree, knowing that such scenes rarely exist in real life. I hate the commercials suggesting that a husband should buy his wife (or vice versa) a new $60,000 Lexus. I hate the fact that far too many people fall for the hype, spend money they can't afford to spend, and then freak out when the bills come due in January or February. I hate the fact that holiday-themed movies, and all-Christmas music radio stations, start flooding the airwaves earlier each year, starting in October. I have been seeing commercials for Hallmark Channel's 30 days of Christmas movies for several weeks.

I suspect this year will be worse than ever, given the increased struggles to survive brought on by the pandemic. Businesses and non-profits both are struggling to stay afloat in the face of declining sales and donations.

I guess I'm lucky. I have no one with whom to share the holidays. So there is no pressure to buy 'the perfect gift.' I stopped sending Christmas cards several years ago. The past couple of years, I didn't even decorate the inside of my house for Christmas. I donated my large artificial tree, along with boxes of lights and ornaments, to the local domestic violence shelter. I didn't bother to set up a few Christmas items in the living room, and the few strands of lights I still have remain in a box in the garage. There is absolutely no point in decorating the house. 

I will do what I often due at Christmas -- donate substantial amounts of money to a half dozen or so of my favorite charities. I usually donate to the Illinois hospice that took care of my dad at the end of his life. I donate to a dog rescue group in South Carolina that provides medical care and rehabilitation to horribly abused and neglected dogs until they are well enough to be adopted. I donate to an organization in Kenya that fights against the poaching of elephants. I donate to another group in Nairobi, providing boots and supplies for the men who care for orphaned elephants. I donate to a golden retriever rescue group from which I adopted a dog a few years ago. I donate to the biggest food bank in the state. And I donate to an all-female anti-poaching team in South Africa working to protect the nation's endangered rhinoceros population.

After I retired, I cut way back on my holiday baking, as I used to take much of it to work to share with coworkers. I don't need to eat a 3-pound batch of fudge by myself. I usually make one or two batches of shortbread, and maybe some Russian teacakes, but that's about it for holiday baking. I don't cook a special meal, either. Since I lost most of my ability to taste food a few years ago, food holds little interest for me.

I enjoy listening to my 45 to 50 CDs of Christmas music (after Thanksgiving). Otherwise, Christmas will be just another day. And that's OK. I prefer to celebrate the season of giving by doing just that -- donating money and goods to organizations I know will make good use of my donations.

And I won't miss the mall with its hordes of crazed shoppers. I won't miss the search for 'the perfect gift.' I will enjoy another quiet day at home with my dogs. We will go for our usual morning walk, and I will take another walk by myself later in the day.

 

Christmas 2020 is so far removed from the true intent of the holiday, as has been the norm for the past several years. And the need for food and other necessities is so great this year. I think the best way to honor the spirit of the season is to help those less fortunate.