grace

I love kids.  Because of this, I won't ever have any. There are several reasons for this, but the central one is the fact that I have a traumatic brain injury. Much of my mechanics have been harshly affected and so has my memory, awareness, comprehension, judgement, and several other issues which are essential to be responsible enough to be a sound parent. Additionally, I have no mate and in my condition, that would be essential. Since many other issues are at hand, being childless is hardly a big concern. Not only do my sister and sisters-in-law do a masterful job of motherhood and have provided me with several occasions with which to fulfill any maternal insticts which arise. I am happy to watch in awe at the masterful job which they do and am never jealous of the patience and committment it takes to mother. Plus, uite aware that the world is failing in large part to a lack of resources to the population it already contains.  Combined with a more personal reason, I am honestly fine with being childless.  Although I am forty years old, have two college degrees and live in a state which pretty much equates maturity with motherhood, not even having the notion of wanting to adopt, sets me apart.  As I have a severe disability, providing for all of my needs is impossible and the very thought of fully caring for another human is humorous.

Being a single, forty year-old with a cat is a bad cliche, but for the present, it is what it is. Some people dress up their pets and seemingly substitute them for children. As my pet is definitely non-human and I did not buy her for that purpose, this scen
With only a few exeptions, cats are self-sufficient and once my neighboring family relocated to other regions of the country, I felt the need to have a permanent conpanion. That's usually the reason I give for her presence but actually, I have little memory of having this sense. I think I just heard an announcement which asked for support of the local animal shelter. Despite all of the effects of my disability, I knew that I could care for a cat. Hence, one afternoon, my mother and I drove down and saw the great number of options. As the town where I live is less than two hundred thousand, the display of cats at other humane agencies must be staggering. Of course that saddens me and if Grace were ever friendly to another feline, I would surely welcome more critters.  However, she definitely is not, so "until death do (the two of) us part." That's okay...actually, it sort of cute.

Knowing that every agency neuters and spays each and spays let me adopt her from the local shelter with a calm mindset.  Cats reproduce quickly and just chasing and corralling one kitty is difficult with my disability. Doing that in duplicate would be impossible. I have a brain injuty which has made many of my functions slow and has severely limited ambulation. Hence, even if she was "welcoming" (which makes me giggle), owning even two kitties may be impossible. As far as choosing her went; Mom was with me when adopting and she is partial to any species that has given birth, a small, grey, pretty female who was grey and had previously carried a litterand, knowing that the name would be easy for my two year-old nephew, Peyton to say and being well-aware that I needed a permanent supply of it, I called her "Grace."

Despite the fact that this piece is a tribute to her, the negative aspects to owning Grace must never be ignored. Besides she is voracious, her attention seems to perpetually be on her next meal and food. When returning to my plce after the first weekend she lived in my home, she pooped on the carpet six times.  As I was away all weekend and I have been told that, because of nerves, this issue is common, I failed to be alarmed or offended.  Additionally, she has regurgitated clumps of grass in my bedroom many times when I let her outside. Chomping is also a problem in other ways; Grace continually bites through and ruins my phone, computer, printer, recharging, laptop, and a great many of other electrical chords. Since I am frequently away, I have needed to mentally construct a list of about five people to feed and water her. As she often accompanies me on visits to their home, my parents cannot own cats because she will hiss at and we are afraid, attack them. If I sleep past nine a.m., Grace attacks me in bed and gnaws at my face to warn me that she is hungry.  About once a month, she catches a glimpse of a kitty from the neighborhood through my sliding glass window. On these occassions, she makes this loud moaning hiss that will haunt me until I die. My entire family is on alert of her location and issues in their various locations around the country.

All of this being said, she is gentle and mellow and is adored by all who know her. When fearful conditions rise, my thoughts imediately go to her safety and shifting the focus from my plight is ALWAYS a pleasure.  She also serves an irreplaceable role in my life and I can only hope that my mood were as even and composed. I try to emulate her straightforward, unapologetic yet loving spirit. As I have lots of small nieces and nephews, before their initial meeting, I am always nervous to see her reaction to their inquisitive, somewhat harming ways. However, she is always a champ and never reacts badly. Having her is also a constant reminder of my good fortune.

A friend, Melanie, is an excellent physical therapist who has the compassion to provide home visits for many of her clients.  As the majority of those under her care are physically disabled, it is an ordeal to keep appointments at her clinic. As a person with a disability, I am well-acquainted with the large number of issues one can encounter when one needs in just waking on time, feeding oneself a nutritional meal, and getting next door.  Setting and keeping an appointment for a session with some therapist often seems fairly ridiculous and if that therapist's job focuses on an issue in your life which are problematic? Yeah...huge success rate when it comes to getting clients who have a positive attitude.  Melanie and I grew up near each other and competed in a few athletic endeavor. Although she was much more talented and motivated than I, she never ridiculed me and once I relocated to the town where she had found employment and was completing her dissertation, I got in touch with her about one of my disability-related issues and we became reacquainted.

Although a true-relationship/frendship never resulted, Melanie introduced me to one of her clients, Mavis. It is sadly common for parents to institutionalize their children with disabilities and because my family is so supportive in every way, this issue is so abhorrent to me, personally.  From a distance, others may also be aghast at giving-up personal contact with a child, but, if compassionate, may be understanding of the descion, especially when considering the other children, time, and other issues that might be in play. As I only know of an overwhelming, altrustic, true love from my parents at every stage of life and cannot imagine a moment of going without, Melanie's fate is horrifying.  Every single moment on my journey, I have felt the invisible hand of my parents...to push me to take risks, to help pack and transport supplies (even across Nebraska during the winter), to bathe me when I broke my thighbone, to escort me across my graduation stage, to wring with worry over my safety when I took countless, to complete countless forms and applications when my own writing was illegible, journeys,