Hamsters Stink and Other Thoughts

The idealistic has worn off. The cute hamster with her babies have hit the fan, not in a literal way, but boy has it been a week of feeling that overwhelming stench of hamster poo upon my first step in the bathroom. Not only in that action, but throughout my life this week, I've been severely overwhelmed by every dirty hamster cage in my way.

The inability to find another part time job right now discourages me thoroughly. But then I hear about 66-year-old men struggling to find a job because the company they work for just fired over 22,000 people. I can't even imagine the sudden loss of the ability to support my family at such an age where the only thing you're supposed to think about it what socks to put on in the morning and if the weather is warm enough to go fishing or not. Actually I can in some ways as my father has been without a "real" job for the last year, but honestly our family has been completely fine and so I haven't been wondering where my next meal will come from or if my water/electricity will be cut off, though here at the Farm we have electric heat and rarely is our house warm on cold nights. I've learned to wear slippers.

The disappointment in friendship and the imperfection of us all has been a downfall. I hate that I mostly expect everyone else to be perfect though I'm completely content to accept or even pretend like my own griefs and selfishness don't exist. I found myself unable to listen to a friend talk about the nit-picky details of their day simply because I wanted to talk about a random occurence in my life. The point of life is to serve. There is nothing I was doing that served anyone but myself in that situation.

I've been learning about patience and "candor without malice." How does that really work? Where is the balance of loving someone and correcting them in that without the slightest bit of selfishness falling into it? It tormented me to the point of almost physical illness last night as I ran through all situations of how to correct a dearly loved and close friend without letting my own ideas of self and their situation seep into my words.

The stages of life have jumped out at me as well. While talking with one of my closest companions this week, I gained some insight into the older years. My grandparents haven't lived anywhere near me and I don't ever remember seeing them in the hospital. But when I was talking to him about his granddad, I was amazed by the words he spoke. "I'm not scared to go up there and see him sick like that anymore. This is a phase of his life, being sick, and I want to know him in it and be a part of it. Just because he's in the hospital doesn't mean his life stops. He's still my granddad every day." So often, I find myself writing off visiting people or being involved in their lives because it has changed from when I was more involved in it. I make up excuses not to go see them or take the extra initiative to drive across town. Yet, they continue to be the same person they were out of the hospital, when they lived closer, when they worked at the same location I did, etc. The list goes on and on.

And when I went and visited that friend's granddad today I was so amazed at the life still in his step, our conversation, and in his hope of recovery, something that is still unseen to him, but that he waits for with patience. I laughed with him and his wife about different things that happen when you get old (like wearing stockings to stop swelling), my young son's smart aleck antics, and the "town characters" in their hometown near Florence. It didn't matter that we were in a sterile hospital environment where a nurse could walk in at any moment, or that I had to run down the hall to find a bathroom since the one there was specifically for him. It felt as comfortable as if I was in their living room. My dear friend was right....knowing someone at every phase in life, especially the hard ones, only makes that relationship richer and the extra effort and selflessness it may take to put your emotions in check and walk into that hospital room, often end up leading to moments of laughter and thankfulness at what life brings.

I think I'll go back tomorrow and take a DVD player to him, enabling him to watch the movies I rented. But more than that, it will be an opportunity to learn more about someone else in the world other than me.