Why Is Lola Crying?

I posted the other night how I caused my daughter to cry—because I was crying.   She didn’t understand why I was upset, but it bothered her enough to make her cry.    There was another incident later that night when I was helping my son get ready for bed.    He had gotten his pajamas on and I was giving him a big hug on the bed and I started crying again.   He didn’t understand either and was worried, asking why I was crying.

I was upset because of all the things that had happened during the day, but as I looked at him, I realized I was happy because he had been such a kind child during the day.   We’ve been seeing ore and more progress with him in a short amount of time and as I looked at him it made me smile, even through the tears.    I tried to explain this but he still didn’t understand.

I assured him I was crying because I was happy and as I did, I was reminded of something from my childhood that at the time, I didn’t understand:

We had neighbors who were cat people.  At any given time they typically had one to three cats, typically two.   Their cats were outdoor cats for the most part, coming in only as the whim struck them.    Over the years, the attrition rate for their cats was fairly high given the hazards of outdoor living.   But as cats would meet their demise, new cats would be adopted and brought home to join the family.

There was one time I remembered though when a very beloved cat had died of leukemia and unexpectedly the other cat had been hit by a car, leaving the family cat-less and sad.  

A few days later it was my friend’s mother’s birthday and we went next door to have dinner.  The mood was still somber because of the loss of their cats and then shortly after we got there, one of their friends came in the door with a small, grey, furry kitten.  

My friend’s mother burst into tears.    She was sobbing.   I was confused.   I asked my mother why Lola was crying?  Did she not want the kitten?   Was the kitten the wrong color?   I didn’t understand.   My mother told me she was crying because she was happy.   I still didn’t understand, but my mother assured me not to worry, some day I would.

The Big Boy Update:  I think my son has a fairly good handle on gun violence.   He said to me the other day as we were walking to the car after lunch, “If you were a child and shot someone, that means you’d go to the vegetarium and you’d never come back."

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter asked my husband, Aunt A and  me in the car tonight, “why are you guys growing up faster than us?!”  We assured her we were all growing up at the same rate.    This was apparently not the answer she wanted because she fired back, “well, when am I gonna grow up?”