Morning Greetings

The cat named Wanda spends the night tormenting Grandma. She (Wanda, not Grandma) climbs the rack full of red hats and almost hanging herself within the blinds. Grandma gets up from her fitful sleep and rescues the poor little darling.

Grandma tries to sleep the rest of the night but mostly she practices duck and cover manuevers while Wanda attacks toes, nose and everything in between.

Minnie and Rusty sleep peacefully during the hurricane that hits the living room sometime around 4am. Finally at 6am Grandma gets up to check out new squeals coming from the living room. There is that sweet little Wanda, perched on top of the drapery rod innocently waiting for rescue. Below the window is an empty tissue box. Grandma ignores Wanda and picks up the million shreds of evidence.

Grandma thinks shes going to head back to bed for a short cat nap. But, alas, she finds Little J sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, all dressed for the day. Grandma is not responsible for his creative attire...

A Cat Named Wanda

Yep... the new kitty's name is officially Wanda. It was Venus, then Bingo and an assortment of other names but it seems that Wanda is going to stick. Little J seems to think so anyway. I think I smell something fishy.

Meanwhile, back at the red hats... we strolled around and picked out our final resting places on Summer Solstice.

Another What?

Last Thursday I arrived home deeply saddened at the death of my best friend. Little J came running to my car with the biggest grin and brightest little brown eyes. This little bundle of fur was nestled in his arms. How could grandma say no to this precious little thing. Little J has been flitting and floating around for days now. The 2 big cats are beginning to tolerate the little fleabag (Grandma is itching and bombing the house). The vet says she is healthy which is great news since she was found stuck in a blackberry bush. She's not the least bit timid and a ball of energy (all day and all night). All we need now is a name... every hour Little J changes it so we are going to end up with one very confused little kitty if she doesn't get an identity soon. Looking for ideas... help!

Saying Goodbye

I have not written due to the deep sadness as I spent the last days with my dear friend. She passed away yesterday, finally at peace. A few months ago I wrote this:

We met in the sunset of our lives. It's not an uncommon occurrence that two women become best of friends in the Red Hat Society. This disorganization of women over fifty has grown in exponential proportions since its inception only a few years ago. It fills the need for those women over fifty to gather together to celebrate life with fun and frivolity. And that is exactly what we do. We do it with whim and wit flaunting our age in shades of purple topped off with brilliant red hats.

When I learned about this society of women, I felt that my conservative and shy nature made me an unlikely candidate for such a public display. Under the guise of a dare I coerced a few old friends into buying red hats, purple dresses, and showing up for high tea at a local teahouse. We giggled under our bright red brims, a conspicuous spectacle of color amid the dainty pink and white décor. Due to a few inquiring ladies with sense of admiration we emerged a couple of hours later with our hats tilted with a new attitude (hat-itude). The next day I registered with Hat Quarters as Queen of the newfound RHS Molls.

The Molls chapter has now grown into an eclectic group of over sixty members and while I enjoy the exaltedness of being a queen, so contrary to my life before red hats, the biggest reward has been my bond with one new special friend. Micky walked into my life with a handful of silly purple clappers, the biggest grin ever, and the heartiest of all laughs. We had the same purpose in mind… pure fun. And fun we have, time and again.

Neither one of us had a single clue that the biggest problems in our lives would be our biggest bond. It happened a few months after we met. I shared with her a rather personal reason for my escape into this society of women. Her face dropped as she blurted out her reason. They are not the same reason but are equally devastating situations. The point is not what we suffer from but how we take care of each other. We allow each other the space to share the daily trials in our life and then we move past that into fun and friendship. We have learned that sharing the grief, with compassion and a good sense of humor seems to lessen the burdens and intensify the fun.

This friendship that developed is far beyond the friendships of my youth. For me the young friends came and went as we grew apart in our individuality, moved on or moved away. My life has been a challenge of tumultuous twists and turns. But as I settle into my second half of life and learn who I have become through these circumstances of life, the growing pains recede. I begin to let go of the past and enjoy a new set of friends. Friends, who know and like each other for what we are today.

There is a new set of dynamics however in these recent relationships. Youth behind us we now realize evidence of our temporary existence as friends, old and new, begin to pass on. And so, this special friend and I share our last days together in sadness and in joy. She has been given that final diagnosis and we know we must cherish the journey and gifts of each day.