It had been two months of sorrow and rejoicing. My father-in-law had passed away at the end of May, and his death stood as a reminder of the loss of my own father who had moved to his eternity in the same month, but 4 years prior. His children were traumatized by his sudden death to a cancer that no one knew was ravaging his body, and my house had become a safe haven to gather since his cremation.
Soon after, I decided it was time to seek a second job to save money for my 16-year-old son’s soon-to-be driving privileges. I’m sure the parents of previous young drivers understand the indefinite and continued cost to have a teenager guiding themselves on the roadways. I think at times, we might be better off to take out a second mortgage on our home to cover the expenses.
I’m completely joking of course, but at times, it is tempting.
The second job turned out to be a gig at a satellite doctor’s office one day a week. I was thrilled to find it because not only was I finally able to use the degree I worked so hard for, but it also fit right in with my current job. I set off each Monday to train at their Sunset Beach location an hour away, and I learned the ropes at their Whiteville setup. All the while, my in-laws and I were trying to wade in the dangerous waters of the wasteland their father’s estate had left behind with no will to dole out to deal with the finality of the situation.
There had been many tears over meals, many discussions of what should have been, and the heaviness of the loss weighed equally on everyone’s heart. He was not a perfect man, but he was still their father, and they loved him greatly nonetheless.
Wednesday marked a turning point for me. The training was done, and I was turned loose to handle the medical reception at the satellite office all on my own. I thank God for the kindness, patience, and encouragement from both the ladies at the practice and the folks at CCN. I left work that evening with a migraine that required me to drive home with one eye closed, but their positivity was about the only thing that kept me from quitting right then and there.
I came home and climbed under the covers, scrubs and all. I later managed a meager supper for everyone of canned soup and sandwiches. My guys still ate thoughtfully and appreciated the meal, all the while fussing they could run the microwave just fine.
I guess I just take the role of matriarch of my home too seriously. That’s just my way.
Thursday’s alarm going off and the sound of the rain kept me questioning my life’s decisions the next morning. Not really, but I completely and utterly regretted having to climb out of my bed. My fridge was also the bearer of bad news. I discovered I was out of the caffeination used to jumpstart my battery each day.
After a shower and a quick hairdo, I drove 45 miles per hour in the pouring rain to the local gas station. Again, I think I started questioning those life decisions until I happened upon a Ms. Bright’s bologna and cheese sandwich. I ripped open the wrapper of my guilty pleasure and contemplated how rain soaked I would get if I decided to pop into Guiton’s for an orangeade.
If you’re from Columbus County, you know nothing goes better with a Ms. Bright’s than a Guiton’s orangeade. It’s my comfort meal, and it runs a close second to my mama’s fried chicken and sweet tea.
The puddles on the road threatened to hydroplane me, so I took it as a sign from the Good Lord to get my behind to work. I arrived ten minutes late, but I was still dry and in one piece. The sandwich had met its demise, but truly, that was its destiny from the moment it was made.
Twenty minutes later after plopping down in my chair, the CCN office door opened and in walked the Padgett’s with a cat carrier. The sweetest little furry face peeked at me through the metal door and mewling begin as the wee Meatloaf begged to be let out so he could comfort the world.
The fuzzy black kitten was just a few weeks old and had been found by Kristi and Perry all alone with no mama to tend to him. Though the storm clouds lingered, and the sky opened up to dump buckets of water over Columbus County, God had sent a cat to bring sunshine through the doom and gloom.
Meatloaf purred, cuddled, and climbed all over the Bossman’s lap and keyboard and padded to my desk begging to be picked up. I nuzzled the furball and scratched his head and chin, and he settled himself in my hair and took a good long snooze on my shoulder. My sister-in-law came rowing in from the weather, and her frown evaporated the moment she laid eyes on the kitten. She promptly left and arrived once again with a bag of toys and feeding bowls for the feline youngster.
He sat quietly as she fussed over him and trimmed his overgrown claws. He rubbed his face all over her legs and shoes before taking up residence on my shoulder once more, completely content with his new life as the office cat.
Later, the wee Meatloaf was carted home to the Weavers to meet the Allmother and a menagerie of species he would soon get to know as his siblings. But as far as I was concerned, when God sends a cat to cheer you up, you totally take advantage of the happiness the little critter brings to a rainy day, or week, or month. Either way, Meatloaf gave me one of the best days I’ve had in a very long time.
Guess I’ll be returning to that second job after all. Maybe Meatloaf will be available for kitten therapy again next week.
