Author: Elizabeth di Grazia

  • “Is there anything about me in here?”

    “Is there anything about me in here?”

    Crystel
    Crystel

    “Is there anything about me in here?” Crystel said with a hint of despair in her voice.

    “Yes,” I answered. “There’s a sentence. Keep reading.”

    She was skimming my recent blog about our 3-legged cat.

    “This story is mostly about Antonio,” I added.

    “Grrrrrr,” she responded.

    I laughed. “Do you want the next blog to be all about you?”

    “Yes,” she said emphatically.

    Writers often worry about writing about their kids online. Using them for fodder when crafting a story. Much is written about the ethical implications of mothers writing about their kids and the online privacy of children. Mothers don’t want to betray their children.

    I’ve had a different experience with Antonio and Crystel, both now thirteen years old. My children want to be seen, noticed, and heard. They want to be important enough to be blog material. They would feel betrayed if I didn’t include them in my writing life.

    Crystel helping me with squad maintenance checks.
    Crystel helping me with squad maintenance checks.

    From time to time, I get squeamish blogging about my children. Not because of what my kids might think but what other writers might. Mothers should protect their children, not exploit them for media attention. Sometimes, I feel tempted to add an aside to blogs and tell the reader that my children have read and approved of the story and photos. I don’t do that. Another voice emerges in my head, a much louder voice. That it’s my business what I write and readers have a choice whether or not to read my material. I won’t be silenced as I was when I was a child.

    If the blog is about them, Antonio and Crystel know the contents before I even start drafting the blog.  Before it’s published they’ve read the article and seen the photos. They might ask me to change a line or to take a sentence out or to use a different photo. Most often the blog is published as is with their approval.

    There are benefits to having a mother who will blog about you. Last week, Crystel was finishing a class project for her Language Arts class – a 3 panel brochure – that needed to include pictures of herself when she asked, “Do you have any photos of me?”

    In the trunk of squad cars there are stuffed animals for children. Crystel is picking one of her monster dolls to add for a give-away.
    In the trunk of squad cars there are stuffed animals for children. Crystel is picking one of her monster dolls to add for a give-away.

    Antonio answered her, “Just Google yourself. I put a picture of me and my birth mom Rosa on mine.” He looked at me and explained. “That was the most recent picture I could find online.”

    Crystel was positively gleeful. “You’re right.”

    Crystel’s desire to be a part of my writing life isn’t limited to the WordSisters blog.

    She visualizes herself sitting next to me signing copies of House of Fire, my yet to be published manuscript.

    House of Fire shows that thirty years of breaking free from a cycle of silence and betrayal was not enough to prepare me for the trials of starting my own healthy family.

    Jody and I have worked hard to create a home of love, safety, and joy where no one gets silenced.

    Crystel’s been practicing her autograph. I’ll be so proud to have her next to me. Both of us will be seen, noticed, and heard.

    Her only complaint about this blog – “It doesn’t have enough pizaaz.”

    Well, next time kid.

  • 3-legged Cat

    3-legged Cat

    Antonio talking with Silver
    Antonio talking with Silver

    “I think we should put him down,” Antonio said through sobs. “I don’t want him to be in pain.”

    I never thought that I’d ever hear him say those words. This was his cat he was talking about. His Silver. I had recently written a blog post about Silver and his sister, Oreo.

    A coyote had crushed Silver’s back leg. We were looking at amputation.

    I put my arm around Antonio and rested my head on his. Through tears I told him how very brave he was. Jody echoed the same sentiment.

    How brave it was for him to see past his own want, his own need, to the life of his beloved pet.

    And, to his death.

    Antonio had experienced the death of two cats and a dog. Instead of the experience being tragic he participated in a welcoming end to a precious animal’s life. All of us, Jody, Crystel, Antonio, and me cried through each of the deaths and loved our companions to their last breath. The two cats and dog were either in our arms or one or two of us were lying next to the animal. Then we buried our buddy. Each taking turns shoveling the dirt.

    The Boys
    The Boys

    Thank you MNpets for coming to our home, always making it easy and giving us just the right amount of privacy. I believe Antonio’s experience with dying has made him able to see past his sorrow to the restfulness of a pet who will no longer have to suffer.

    Jody, Antonio, and I sat on the couch reminiscing about each companion that had died. Tears rolled down our cheeks. We talked about why we made the decision we did with each animal. You knew it was time.

    I told Antonio that I wasn’t sure that it was Silver’s time. Silver had continued to eat. An indication that he wanted to live. Antonio needed to talk to him. Spend time with him and see what Silver told him.

    “He’ll tell you,” I said. “You guys can talk. “

    We pulled out the computer and read about the quality of life for a three-legged animal. We watched YouTube videos of three-legged cats.

    In preparation for amputation, Jody and I gave Silver pain and nerve medicine as well as antibiotics every 8 hours.

    When Monday came, Jody and I discussed how we needed to leave work and meet at home for Silver’s noon medicine. Antonio offered to get out of school. That was a possibility. We live next door to Richfield Middle School.

    Silver our 3-legged cat
    Silver our 3-legged cat

    Looking ahead to Silver’s recovery after amputation, we talked about complications. Medicine might be needed on a regular basis and I was scheduled to be out of town.

    “I can do it,” Antonio said.

    “Are you sure?” I asked. “One person has to keep Silver’s mouth open and the other has to squirt the syringe or put the pill in his mouth.”

    “I can do whatever it takes,” he said with certainty.

    And, you know what, I believe him.

     

     

     

     

     

  • Cat on a Walk

    Cat on a Walk

    Silver, getting suited up for his walk.
    Silver

    Antonio stood at the door, a clipboard in his hand. “Would you like to buy a wreath from Boy Scouts?”

    The man holding the door abruptly stepped outside and side-stepped around Antonio.

    “Ssssh. Quiet. Stay still.” He crouched into a linebacker pose.

    I watched from where I stood a few feet away.

    The man was advancing slowly forward. He looked as if he was going to make a move.

    I glanced to the side of his house. Suddenly, I understood. “That’s our cat,” I said.

    “Really?” His body taut, still ready to pounce. He clearly didn’t believe me.

    “Yes. He’s on a walk with us.”

    “Really?” He wasn’t yet ready to give up snaring the cat.

    “Yes. We live a few blocks over.”

    Resigned, he stood up straight. “Someone said they were missing a cat that looks just like that.”

    Rosie, Silver, and Oreo
    Rosie, Silver, and Oreo in Donaldson Park

    “No, that’s our cat,” I repeated.

    Antonio came down the steps and turned to walk towards the next house. “Here, Silver. Here, boy.”

    I caught up to him.

    “Did you see that?” Antonio whispered. “He was going to take our cat.”

    “Yeah, I did.” I looked at Silver a few respectful paces away. I studied him. “He looks homeless,” I said. “He doesn’t have a collar.”

    Jody, Antonio, Crystel, and I are responsible cat owners. We take our cats in for their checkups. They have all their shots. They are also outdoor cats. We put collars on them when they were kittens. That didn’t go so well.

    Oreo waiting for us.
    Oreo waiting for us.

    For the past six months Silver and/or Oreo have gone on walks with us. I first noticed it on a May morning when I was walking the dogs. Silver followed us up Morgan Avenue, down 73rd, all around Donaldson Park and back down 73rd and then Morgan Avenue to our home.

    What to do? I gave him a treat just like I gave the dogs.

    One of Antonio and Crystel’s chores this summer was to walk the dogs each day. More often than not, Silver and Oreo – his sister, accompanied them.

    Sometimes, cars will stop and ask us if that’s our cat(s) following us. “Yes, we’re on a walk,” we’ll reply.

    Adults with children will stop to pet the cats and/or dogs.

    But, until now, we weren’t worried about the cats appearing to be homeless.

    Orea and Buddy in-between walks
    Oreo and Buddy in-between walks

    Antonio and I continued knocking on doors. The further we went from our street the more Silver meowed. I understood. We were going further and further from his territory. His territory was east of Morgan not west where we were.This was confirmed when a woman said, “I haven’t seen that cat around here before.”

    “No, that’s our cat. He’s on a walk with us,” I replied.

    “That explains it,” she said.

    I can’t say that we sold more wreaths by having Silver with us.

    The next day all three outdoor cats had collars on whether they wanted them or not.

    They’re our cats. They have a home.