A striking story

First, go read the (short) story I encountered today: Dying girl granted last wish for "Up"

I don't know what about this story struck me so. Maybe it was the apparent total grace with which the mother let her young daughter go. Maybe it was the efforts of everyone involved to help fulfill the girl's dying wish, however simple or silly it might have seemed. (It's not like she asked, after all, to go skydiving or see Europe just once before she died.)

But I think mostly it's the girl. Often in life we encounter the hypothetical question, "if you had 24 hours left to live, how would you spend your last day?" It's an uncomfortable and ultimately ridiculous question-- because when are we ever faced with that opportunity or that curse, to know of our impending end but still be blessed with the boundless health, money, and freedom required to fulfill the typical answers to the question?

The young girl in this story demonstrated at once both incredible bravery-- facing, with full knowledge, her own death-- and the true spirit of a 10-year-old. After all, she just wanted to see the latest Disney movie.

Now, I don't know this particular 10-year-old's views on the afterlife. But imagine just wanting to savor one last little joy in life-- to, in fact, put off dying in order to do so-- even though you won't remember it, wouldn't experience any sorrow for having not seen it after all, because you knew you would not be here any more.

I can't think of a better way to spend your last day.

How's life? Well, funny you should ask...

I thought I'd just throw out a post of "all the cool stuff Corrie has going on this summer." Just in case random people have missed out on random parts of these updates. So here goes...

This Tuesday I'm getting my first weekly veggie and fruit shares from the Grant Family Farms CSA in Wellington, Colorado. Likely inclusions this week? Lettuce, spinach, radishes, cilantro, kale, parsley, rhubarb, beets, raspberries, and strawberries! YUM!

I'm excited to try out the tasty, fresh local treats that I'll get to pick up each week (not far from my home & work). One of the ways I'll get to put that produce to good use is making dishes for my "Meals That Matter" group through church. Sadly, I'll be missing the first meal, as I'll be out of town, but for the next 7 weeks thereafter, I'll get to share a meal once a week with the same group of about 15 other people from my church.

Soon, it may be heating up like last summer, and those goodies from my fruit share will go to good use in many a summer smoothie. For the last couple of weeks, though, we've been having what I've affectionately dubbed "monsoon season" here in Colorado. Every single day brings a thunderstorm (and thus sends Potok fleeing under the futon-- or, if I'm home, under a snug blanket hideaway, as seen at right.) Each day breaks clear and sunny (as does every day in Denver, of course), but sometime in the afternoon or early evening, quite suddenly the sky grows dark and the drops start to fall.

Oftentimes this has involved 5-10 minutes of pounding hail, bouncing off my window sills and collecting on the streets and sidewalks below. We haven't had any tornadoes (and aren't likely to) here so close to downtown, but they've already started tearing up the suburbs and plains, and outlying areas have been even more heavily carpeted with large hail.

Yesterday I was so fortunate as to perfectly time a long bus ride with the day's storm. The streets were so flooded that the bus pushed up huge waves of water onto the sidewalk as it passed, drenching unlucky pedestrians and bus-waiters several inches deep. Parking lots quickly turned into rushing rivers many yards wide. And as the bus plowed along, it kicked up spray as high as the bus itself, creating a wake like that from a cruise ship.

As soon as the day's storm is through, however (which usually happens within 10 minutes to an hour), the sun breaks out with a vengeance and it's sunny Denver weather all over again.

Side note: Potok's timidity at thunderstorms inspired me, one day as I walked home from the bus stop in the rain and blazing sunshine, to pen (well, in my head) this little ditty (to the tune of "The Itsy Bitsy Spider"):

The fluffy fuzzy Potok hid underneath the couch.
Home came the Corrie and coaxed the Potok out.
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain.
The fluffy fuzzy Potok can lounge in peace again.

Off the summer storm topic... Also in my summer plans is building a house with Habitat for Humanity. Well, not an entire house. My church has committed to 4 "build days," with 10 volunteers working on the house each day (and raising $2,500 toward the material costs for building the house-- more details to come on how you can contribute to this great cause if you feel so moved!)

I also plan on involving a whole lot of music in my summer. I already caught the Dead here in Denver last month (from a killer floor seat, mind you). Next up: a show in the cornfields with one of my best friends on the planet. Later in the summer, the same music festival I attend every August. Hopefully more to be packed in, in between there, but for some reason I have an exceedingly difficult time getting anyone in Denver to want to do anything other than go to the movies.

Let's see, what else... I'm still working as an Employment & Education Counselor working with homeless and at-risk youth. I'm looking forward to our summer GED graduation coming up in a few weeks-- it's gonna be big!

Oh, and soon I'm going to start volunteering with the children's ministry at church-- just because I don't get my hands on my sweet niece & nephew (who are about to be ONE, can you believe it?!) as often as I'd like, doesn't mean I can't at least get in some time with the local kiddos!

Man... I'm probably forgetting something else, too... :)

Life as a cat person

Growing up, I was always lobbying for a cat. Don't get me wrong; we were dog people. The dog I grew up with for my first dozen years, Raisin, was a top-notch dog. Really awesome. Levi, who we got to love for next dozen, was (and may always be) the best friend I've ever had. But still, throughout my childhood, I never gave up the campaign for a cat.

Then came college, and the various rentals and uprootings that entailed. No place for a cat. As a kid, I really wanted a kitten, probably because I'd never had a real baby animal, in terms of something tiny, itty bitty (though Levi, at 10 months when he adopted us, was quite a pup). And kittens are among the cutest things there are. During my college years my menagerie of smaller fare waxed and waned, through various offcast animals-- the fish I'd seen hatched as babies, taken in after their owner moved away. Zeke, my first parakeet, joined the family from an allergic owner. Jackie soon joined the flock, as he wasn't getting enough attention (but getting too much attention from the cat) in his prior home. Crooked Face and Baby Fish eventually passed away, and I found their lonely sister Orange One a new home with other fish in a giant classroom tank. Zeke and Jackie became good buddies, and when I moved to Denver, embarked on the 1,000+ mile roadtrip with me like troopers.

And then came cat.

Potok arrived. He was unsure of the new arrangement, after leaving his lifelong home, being very dramatically jammed into a carrier, hoisted out at airport security, and taking to the air for a total 10-hour trip with someone he barely knew. And for background, Potok is not really that fond of people he barely knows. He tends to flee at best, and hiss, bite, and punch at worst. Thus I was unsure as well-- of just exactly how happy Potok would end up, out in Colorado with me.

But behold...He digs me! :)

It only took Potok a few days to warm up, to the point where he wanted to jump on my lap for some lovin'. Of course, during that first week or two, it was tentative at first-- snuggling for pettings, but still wary of the human giving them. Since then, however, he has decided that I am his Person now, and has accepted me whole-heartedly (as much as cat might, that is-- he still might sock me in the legs as I pass, if he's mad that I'm not allowed to let him into my bedroom, or dash up to chomp at my arm if he's just feeling frisky).

I've learned many things from this cat. For instance, that under his fierce exterior, there can be a precious little guy who really just wants to cuddle, knead my stomach, and kiss my elbows. Or that a cat can go from zero to 60 in the time it takes to click on a laser pointer. That a cat who remains silent all evening can instantly began caterwauling (pun intended) while playing with jingly ball toys, the minute I go to bed. Or that while a nice comfy new pet bed may be of zero interest whatsoever, a cardboard box can be the very best present ever. Or that cats know how to barf a lot.

(Sadly, this evening Potok barfed in his cardboard box. This is good news for me, since it was a much more convenient than his previous ventures to barf on my braided jute rug, which is possibly the most difficult surface in the universe from which to clean cat barf, or the even more exciting option, one of my sandals. This was a very sad incident for Potok, however, since he has really grown immensely fond of this box.)

The verdict, in the end: Good kitty.