This blog was supposed to go up yesterday, and say a Happy Mother’s Day to you all, but I just didn’t have the energy. My bad. Happy Belated Mother’s Day, to all the human and fur-bearing mothers!
I have not been feeling well, I can’t sleep at night, and that may be because I have hypothyroidism, and lack of food may be throwing my thyroid out of whack with the level of medication that I take. I have an appointment this morning with my thyroid doctor in McLean, VA, and can’t wait for him to read me the riot act for being on my seventh day without food. But it’s important that I can at least sleep at night in order to go on, so it’s necessary that I see the doctor today.
Unfortunately this is 3 hours from Surry, VA, so I drove to my home with Joe on Saturday and was able to spend Mother’s Day resting there. Joe and I have ‘lists’ of our responsibilities, and the pets fall under my domain, unless I’m not there. It’s just another of the things that cause me guilt, because he’s taken on the responsibilities of Sloan, Tuna, Mitsy, the two hermit crabs I inherited from my daughter, and the cat who was abandoned at our house and is now up for adoption, Princess Vivian.
I call her The Princess to mess with Joe, who isn’t as fond of taking in strays as I am. She is leery of him still, and I asked him if he talked to her, and if he called her the Princess, because a princess deserves her subjects to show her respect. He said, no, he most certainly wasn’t going to call her The Princess. But I caught him doing it once already, yippee! Got him.
If you’re interested in adopting The Princess, she’s located in the Central-Northern VA area. Drop an e-mail to email@example.com. She is spayed and full vetted, and is free of feline leukemia and aids. She is approximately six years old, and is quite loving and cuddly. I really like her, and her face seems kinda like a bobcat to me, which makes me like her even more.
In a funny picture from yesterday, my cat Mitsy is trying to get to Sloan’s food in his neater feeder. Little does she realize she could just walk around a few inches and it would make her life much easier.
Normally I try to spend half my Mother’s Day with my Mother taking her to dinner at a nice restaurant. Her mother died on Mother’s Day, and so this can be a very sad day for her; I spent a lot of years trying to make it a happy memory instead of a sad one. I also like to spend part of my day with my kids, they used to make me breakfast in bed, but if not I like to take them out for a meal as well.
It was another source of guilt for me yesterday that I could not be there for any of them, and for myself. I love to be with them on Mother’s Day, it’s what makes the day special for me. I love all of them greatly, and I miss them so much.
My son Rayne sent me a card that immediately sent me into tears. Here’s what it said:
I could never explain how grateful I am to have you in my life. Just knowing you’re always there with an understanding heart gives me a feeling of happiness that means more than I can say…And to know that you count on me just as I count on you makes our special bond one of the most valuable gifts I’ve ever been given.
Isn’t that awesome? He’s almost 20 now, and I’m so grateful and proud to call him my son.
Then he wrote this: “Momma, I love you and respect you utterly. I wish you luck with your hunger strike, but if you die I will find you in the afterlife and smack the shit out of you. Love you with all I have to give.”
That about sums it up. Many activists don’t have families because when they take on important but dangerous actions on behalf of their cause, then there is no one to hurt but themselves. They cut the guilt out of the equation.
But I have a husband who I love more than anything—our two-year anniversary is coming up June 20—and two children that I love to pieces. I hate so much that I am hurting them with my actions every day. On top of all the stress and pain that I am enduring for me, I know that I am causing them pain too, and that rips me up inside.
When I first told my mom I was going on a hunger strike, she said “that’s nice dear.” OK, so she doesn’t know what one is. I was fine with that, because I didn’t have to start hurting her right then. Now she understands and is calling me every day and getting herself really worked up over it.
This makes me sad, and I want to tell my family and close friends that I love you all so much, and I’m so, so sorry that I’m causing you pain with my actions.
I will not be able to sit outside Poindexter’s office today, but I believe my friend Wanda will be doing so in my stead. If so, thank you, Wanda. I’m very grateful to you. I will be back there tomorrow, from 11-4.