Times When You Wonder

Times When You Wonder

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            Do you ever have times when you wonder who you are? I mean, you might be sitting under the cottonwood tree, perfectly content one moment; the next moment you feel like the essence of you is outside your skin, looking at your body askance, as if to say, “Now who are you?”

            You might follow that observation with the notion that who you are is not who you ever meant to be.  Well, that’s my story. Given some of the wrong turns and dead ends in my life, I guess I’m lucky. I never came anywhere near the life I imagined for myself. Luck, huh?

              I’ve always said I never have any luck. I’ve never won anything in my life, not even a door prize at a fundraiser or community raffle. Consequently, I’m not tempted to buy lottery tickets or hang out at the casino. Lucky me.

            None of the jobs I’ve had were on my list of what I wanted to be when I grew up. But I learned to find satisfaction in the lowest kind of chore. I learned to make a living using skills I learned on the way to that “grown-up’ place.  That’s one back-handed kind of luck.

            That’s not me tooting down the highway in the big Cadillac convertible, stock portfolios stacked on the seat behind, mink coat warming my shoulders and diamonds glittering in the sun. Not even in my imagination would that be me. Certainly not the me sitting in the shade wondering who I am.  I’ve never had those wants or that kind of luck, if luck it is.

            This week I got lucky. I got something I never thought I’d have—a companion to share the rest of my life. Someone with whom to talk. A warm body to share my bed.

            Samantha’s friend Elda knew a woman who needed to find a home for a kitten. She’s a two-month old Calico. Elda brought the little fur-ball to me and put her in my arms. I was a goner.

But, I said, with caution, I’d take her for a test-drive for a couple days. My criteria were that she not be one to claw my cushions to shreds and she had to like being outdoors.

            The kitten let it be known that from her standpoint, she had to like me equally well. On the second day in my home, she climbed into my lap, purred and curled up for a nap, our mutual agreement sealed.  Cat Ballou found a home.

            Lucky, see? That‘s what I mean. I’ve never been lucky in the big things in life. I don’t have much but my everyday needs are met just fine. At times in my life, I’ve been scared spit-less but those day-to-day needs for me (and my children) have always come.

            So who is that woman sitting out on the back patio under the Jacaranda tree? Is that little bit of fluff curled in her lap Cat Ballou?

            I have to answer, that is one lucky woman. If it took every wrong turn and dead end to lead her to the life she has today, she’s lucky.

Sondra Ashton

HDN: Looking out my back door

September 21, 2017

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