How awesome is my family?!
Here they are standing behind Emily's grave.
Sometimes it is ok to make a big deal about something so simple. . .and my mom and dad did just that :)
We Petersen's like to make a scene!
Friday, September 26, 2008
The Masterpiece
How awesome is my family?!
Here they are standing behind Emily's grave.
Sometimes it is ok to make a big deal about something so simple. . .and my mom and dad did just that :)
We Petersen's like to make a scene!
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Emily Mittens Petersen
(Thanks Dad!)*Please know that after reading this post you will find yourself saying "It was just a cat." I care about you, but I do not care that you will say that :) *
Around 1 o'clock today I decided I was going to Kava House after my meeting downtown. Initially I planned on ordering a coffee, then I contemplated purchasing a baked good as well. Already I did not need the coffee, so the baked good option was entirely unneccessary for the following reasons:
1. I am unemployed. This is the time to watch spending.
2. Since April my supper has consisted of ballpark fare (animal crackers, a soft pretzel with cheese, super nachos, pulled chicken with Sweet Baby Ray's BBQ sauce, diet pepsi, beer, and peanut butter cups with a dab of ice cream)
3. I have a lifelong twofer deal of a double chin and Petersen butt.
4. It might spoil my supper.
The meeting ended, I parked my car, walked into Kava and saw in the bakery display a giant s'more bar. After 5 minutes (due to the line) of a mental quarrel, I ordered my coffee and bar. The woman behind me "ooooed and aaaaahed" over the bar and said to her partner, "Oh wow, that looks so good. I don't know if I should get that."
I turned around and said, "Just do it."
With my afternoon snack, I walked to a table outside, sat down and said to myself, "I have no idea why I just bought this thing."
Except I did know exactly why I bought this thing.
My cat died.
My mom called me yesterday and said they had to put my cat Emily to sleep. We had her for 15 years. She was my 1993 Christmas present. Her 'adoption certificate' had the name "Mandy" printed on it because when I first held her three weeks prior, Mandy is what I wanted to name her. Santa delivered her while we were at Christmas Mass and after holding her for a bit I decided to name her Emily because she looked more like an Emily. Santa probably was not thrilled at the idea after going through the certificate trouble, but afterall, she was mine.
For the first year (maybe two) I helped care for her. Slowly my dad so graciously took over the role. It wasn't until I first left for college that I began feeling guilty for not fulfilling my ownership duties. I loved her to pieces and my parents sacrificed (thank you) more than I would like to share just to keep Emily in the house, but I most certainly didn't deserve her as a pet.
My mom called last night and told me the news. She invited my grandpa, my brother and his family, and the rest of the clan living at the house. The nine of them saw the back-yard garden Emily is now buried in and then had coffee and dessert. My mom said she did this because my 6-year-old nephew has been to a few funerals in the past year, so she wanted it to be the same.
In true Petersen women style, I cried. . .a lot. Guilt, sadness, reminiscing. . .15 years. I asked to talk to my dad. The conversation consisted of tears, a mumbled thank you, and my dad saying "She was a good cat."
And because of those 15 years, I bought the s'more bar. It offered no amount of satisfaction, something I was well aware of standing in line. (Sidenote: Currently I am reading Sex God by Rob Bell and one theme of the book is how 'this is really about that.' If you ever read it, this post may make more sense!)
I was searching for a sense of relief. It is that feeling where something bad happens and there is one person on your mind that you want to come over, walk up to you and give you the biggest hug of your life. This, however, is not an option right now. All I need(ed) to do is pray, read the Bible. . .instead I buy a s'more bar.
I was searching for something. For the record, though quite delicious, that something is not in the dessert case at Kava House. I tried to justify THIS s'more bar for THAT 15-year-old cat named Emily. It spoiled my supper too.
My mom called me yesterday and said they had to put my cat Emily to sleep. We had her for 15 years. She was my 1993 Christmas present. Her 'adoption certificate' had the name "Mandy" printed on it because when I first held her three weeks prior, Mandy is what I wanted to name her. Santa delivered her while we were at Christmas Mass and after holding her for a bit I decided to name her Emily because she looked more like an Emily. Santa probably was not thrilled at the idea after going through the certificate trouble, but afterall, she was mine.
For the first year (maybe two) I helped care for her. Slowly my dad so graciously took over the role. It wasn't until I first left for college that I began feeling guilty for not fulfilling my ownership duties. I loved her to pieces and my parents sacrificed (thank you) more than I would like to share just to keep Emily in the house, but I most certainly didn't deserve her as a pet.
My mom called last night and told me the news. She invited my grandpa, my brother and his family, and the rest of the clan living at the house. The nine of them saw the back-yard garden Emily is now buried in and then had coffee and dessert. My mom said she did this because my 6-year-old nephew has been to a few funerals in the past year, so she wanted it to be the same.
In true Petersen women style, I cried. . .a lot. Guilt, sadness, reminiscing. . .15 years. I asked to talk to my dad. The conversation consisted of tears, a mumbled thank you, and my dad saying "She was a good cat."
And because of those 15 years, I bought the s'more bar. It offered no amount of satisfaction, something I was well aware of standing in line. (Sidenote: Currently I am reading Sex God by Rob Bell and one theme of the book is how 'this is really about that.' If you ever read it, this post may make more sense!)
I was searching for a sense of relief. It is that feeling where something bad happens and there is one person on your mind that you want to come over, walk up to you and give you the biggest hug of your life. This, however, is not an option right now. All I need(ed) to do is pray, read the Bible. . .instead I buy a s'more bar.
I was searching for something. For the record, though quite delicious, that something is not in the dessert case at Kava House. I tried to justify THIS s'more bar for THAT 15-year-old cat named Emily. It spoiled my supper too.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Murphy's Law
A good friend of mine (take a wild guess) has a poster entitled, "Murphy's Law."
If anything can go wrong, it will proceeds the title.
I have a tendency to stress and use this as my life motto, especially when I am lying in bed reflecting on the day and telling myself, "I should have stayed in bed today." This week has been sad as tomorrow is my last day at the Whitecaps. I called home today, already dreading tomorrow, and was told several unexpected, grave stories about our friends and family.
As the call ended, I walked into my apartment, fell onto the couch and sat there.
Empty. Sick.
What I began analyzing (or admitting) today is these things happen everyday. And a majority of these things I heard about today didn't happen to me. It happened to an uncle, a cousin, another cousin, a friend, a sibling, a patient.
I am not sure where this story was headed, so until I figure that out, read Ephesians 6:10-20 and think of the uncle, the two cousins, the friend, the sibling, and the patient because Murphy's Law might be in full force tonight.
If anything can go wrong, it will proceeds the title.
I have a tendency to stress and use this as my life motto, especially when I am lying in bed reflecting on the day and telling myself, "I should have stayed in bed today." This week has been sad as tomorrow is my last day at the Whitecaps. I called home today, already dreading tomorrow, and was told several unexpected, grave stories about our friends and family.
As the call ended, I walked into my apartment, fell onto the couch and sat there.
Empty. Sick.
What I began analyzing (or admitting) today is these things happen everyday. And a majority of these things I heard about today didn't happen to me. It happened to an uncle, a cousin, another cousin, a friend, a sibling, a patient.
I am not sure where this story was headed, so until I figure that out, read Ephesians 6:10-20 and think of the uncle, the two cousins, the friend, the sibling, and the patient because Murphy's Law might be in full force tonight.
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