One of the most obvious facts about grownups to a child is that they have forgotten what it is like to be a child.
– Randall Jarrell
Last week our household was blessed with a new addition, a small kitten only a few weeks old. She is full-bodied white with calico-coloring on her head and tail.
She pounces and sprints, cuddles and purrs. Curiosity fuels her adventurous spirit and everything is new and bright.
Her name is Stormy.
Her name offers insight into our home the past few days of her living with us, somewhat like a tornado. I’ve been woken many times to tiny paws walking across my face and nibbling sharp-baby teeth sinking into my skin.
We’ve all played with her and laughed—oh, how I’ve laughed. She’s a delight. A force of lightness and light. She’s snuggled her way deep into our minds and hearts.
She’s part of our family.
Yesterday, she fell ill, lethargic and still, quiet and withdrawn. After trying to figure out what was wrong, I took her to the emergency vet and left her with strangers in hopes of them saving our new little addition.
I cried and my heart rumbled with fear. I prayed and practiced doing what I would normally do, while I waited to hear the news. I called and checked in, sighing with relief at any sign of improvement.
She’s still not home yet, but there’s hope for this afternoon. I read this quote from Randall Jarrell today and couldn’t help but think of our Stormy.