I've puzzled over this post a bit. Write about the sad or the little bit of happy? In effect, they're so intertwined that the larger story is necessary in order to tell about my little ray of hope in the midst of it.
We had a nice Easter, which to me means being in church and singing those familiar, much-loved hymns and all that. It was glorious as always, and we were greeted by dozens of friends there, all sharing in the joy. Hubby's elderly aunt was visiting with us, and although she's nearly deaf she enjoyed the service too.
After a breakfast of bagels and coffee, they napped while I made our Easter dinner--I glazed and cloved the ham, made the potato salad out of fresh red-skinned potatoes and dill, prepared the pseudo-cheesecake (Jello-brand) and the asparagus. We sat down just after 5:00, and after a prayer and about 2 bites of dinner, everything went south.
I was concerned right away when hubby's dear aunt couldn't seem to use her fork. Then she couldn't speak--although trying, she stuttered some first letters but could form no words. I moved to help her, and within minutes she had a seizure. We eased her to the carpet....she awoke but still couldn't speak. Eventually the ambulance came and off to the hospital. It wasn't the way we expected to be spending Easter evening!
But the strangest thing happened in the several minutes between when the paramedics arrived (around here, medics work with the local volunteer ambulances, driving their own truck that does not transport patients) and when the ambulance arrived. The competent young medics came in with their kits, our aunt was awake and stable, and in that lull, my husband called to me to look out the door. I was charmed and amazed!
One of the white Manx cats...the one I called "brother" in the pictures here...was standing on the porch, his front paws on the door threshhold, staring right through the windowpane into the dining room! As we looked at him, he peered in through the glass, moving his head back and forth, apparently to see better what was going on! And he did this was with the paramedic truck sitting right outside and the two medics just having walked by him into the house. He must not be that afraid of people after all!
I looked back after a few seconds to check on hubby's aunt, the ambulance people arrived, and "brother" took off at some point. But how about that!! I've had such a special feeling about those cats...just a sense that they are remarkable creatures. Now I have a renewed feeling that these two Manxes are more than just a couple of strays. They're something special, and Brother's interest--and (what I probably exaggerate into) concern for what happened inside the house just makes me think even more that they're meant to join our family!
P.S.: Hubby's aunt was admitted to the hospital and has not had another major event since Easter, and the Manx has been around for dinner as usual every night since then.