So I saw Momma, when she thought I wasn’t watching…windexing RIP Daddy’s humongous photo glass and frame…and she was grumbling at him…that he never comes around anymore…never whispers in her ear… like what’s with that….when did he get to step out of her dreams, whether she is awake or asleep? Who makes the rules, sets the timelines….tell us who?
Now Momma realizes when RIP Daddy first passed, he was worried that she would not be able to handle the mundane. What Momma knew about furnaces, contractors, cars or house hold repairs could have been written on the inside of a thimble…a very small thimble…how to get her up to speed with him inHeaven and her still firmly tethered toEarth was a conundrum.
Momma supposes that once you get to Heaven you have so much time to separate from those you left behind before you get appointed your full-time Help the World Become A Better Place Position. After all, there was more than Momma needed assistance….wasn’t she from the generation of ‘Bring Home the Bacon, Fry It Up in A Pan?’ No pain, no gain.Up and at it.No time for shrinking violets.
RIP Daddy did keep a close eye at first, bursting through with his knowledge and advice but then, over the years and tears, he noticed…..Momma had got the hang of it….somehow. It took a lot of Prayers (and Googling) but she made steady, if questionable progress and so the time arrived for RIP Daddy to Let Go and Let God.
After all, RIP Daddy had a mission that only he could complete, said his personal Guardian Angels….which would never occur unless RIP Daddy accepted his present location….recognized his Heavenly Assignment as he waited for Momma to complete her Journey and join him, In the Sky Lord, In the Sky.
Our Itty Bitty on the Earth Plane
Another reason for RIP Daddy to cut the cord was Itty Bitty… she always wanted to be first…to beat her older brother and sisters… and no one can argue…she won that round fair and square ….even though she was born to be the Baby of the Family and filled that position beyond expectations.
For so long Momma had visited Itty Bitty everyday, hopping on the bed with her – talking – laughing…now that Itty Bitty had taken her flight to her Greater Reward, it was important that even though she was still confused by the abruptness of it all, she must drop by…often…in Momma’s dreams…in thoughts…all day, all night …because, like RIP Daddy, although their passing was inevitable,it still came like a thief in the night…without time to assimilate…contemplate….and tell me how many dead people can a sane person, (even Momma), entertain on the same day?
RIP Daddy & Momma remember when….
Now I, Jakita know…the cats, especially Charlie knows….RIP Daddy actually drops by often but poor Momma hasn’t been blessed with the same awareness…The Two Footed only believe what they see…Sucks to be them…the Four Footed can feel your presence as it permeates our existence….so we implore you RIP Daddy, come on down, make your presence known, give Momma what she wants. Get with the program. Multi-task. Make her believe:
Okay so Momma, we got to talk….I got a system…and truly I’d appreciate (no offense),if you just keep up, okay.
One of my overflowing-need-a-bigger-toy basket.
Let me start by thanking you for having toy boxes in different areas of the house, crammed full of chew bones, balls, stuffed toys and sundry. I am eight years old now…and an Aquarius…I am super organized…Like Your-Sister-Who-Taught You-Most-the Things-You-Know, I am an inventory genius. I know where every item is, FIFO(first–in–first–out) and where I want to keep it…so let sleeping toys lie, already!
It always happens when you are cleaning house…which you do far too often, I’m thinking…I can never get a break, day after day, shuffling from room to room to avoid the chaos you create when the brooms and mops appear and dust gets flying.
And I admit, I am guilty. I take toys out of my box and just drop them willy-nilly, like a Princess with an entourage, to clean up after me. Oh, I am perfect in countless ways but Momma never trained me to pick up my toys every night and put them back in the bins. Blame Momma…again…of course!
Jakita with Babby
No, Momma enabled me, cleaning up after me….so when she recently found Babby on the sun room floor instead of putting him in the bin right there, she took him in to the living room basket. Trained, Momma is, but by who….I ask you??
Well, you know what I had to do. I went right in, dug out Babby and plunked right where I had left him in the middle of the sun room floor. If I wanted Babby somewhere else, I’d put him somewhere else…Got that Momma?Tiggerstays on Wonder Boy’s bed so I can sleep with him all night, Pink Fluffy Bunny has a corner by the pillow on the couch in the living room so I can rest on him during the day and Babby is my sun room solace… along with whatever else I feel like playing with at any given time… on any given day.
Are ya listening Momma???
Truly it’s not so difficult to follow….but we all know Momma is highly contrary and marches to the beat of a drummer only she can hear….my advice…to paraphrase Pinkwould be:
You gotta show up and try, and try, Gotta show up and try, and try….
