The day before the last day of school (December 23), we brought Camino in to have her splint changed before the holidays; the news wasn't good. Her bones were not knitting, and were once again poking through the skin. Amputation, to be honest, was way out of our budget, and held no guarantees. Our wonderful vet felt that in spite of the excellent care she'd received, it would be most humane to put her down. Many tears were shed as we made this difficult decision, and said goodbye to an otherwise perfectly healthy young cat.
I'm sure I'm not alone; it seemed that, as the mama of the house, I'd worked my ass off for six weeks making sure Christmas would be bright for my children, my students, my husband, our families...baking, decorating, singing, reading Christmas stories, anticipating, knitting, wrapping, smiling at those moments when I got a good deal or found the perfect gift.
Then, by the time the day came, I felt spread so thin that I could hardly summon the strength to actually enjoy it all! On Christmas Eve, in spite of the beauty around me and my many blessings, I felt sad, stressed, worried, frazzled, and frustrated that I was feeling that way after so much work and preparation!
So, I put on my rubber boots and took a quiet, solo stroll just to the end of our lane way on Christmas Eve.
All I feel is home.
The rooster was beginning to crow in his cozy harem coop; a heat lamp keeps their water from freezing, and I pictured them roosting together, feathers fluffed to keep in the heat.