[This is an entry in my journal from 12/24/04. Though I don’t remember writing it, I felt like sharing…]
“I’m watching my dog right now, in my living room in Wauwatosa. Her heart and lungs are working overtime to accommodate her old age. She moves everso slowly, rarely getting out of the way of any of the family members. Her hair is thinning and her bones are more pronounced, as the muscle and fat begin to melt away into a sea of droopy skin. She is in her last year of life, no doubt. It wouldn’t surprise anyone if the next moment was her last. Whether it would sadden us is another story altogether. She stares out into space most of her waking life. It’s when we make eye contact that I begin to wonder. Is it affirmation she is after? Love? Care? It couldn’t be more primitive, could it? I mean, she’s eaten already, gone to the bathroom already. Its as if she’s crying out, reaching out.
It makes me dream of a time where I too am so old and elderly — where my lungs and heart are failing me, where all of my bones and joints hurt with every movement, but, despite it all, I’m still alive and fighting, knowing that today is not my last — what then? What would I be caught thinking? Feeling? Saying? And most of all… to whom????