Of late, I have found myself musing over my mortality. Last night, I started calculating the years left in my life in terms of the number of cats I might possess (in truth, I am less certain that I possess my feline companions than the alternate option).
I am 33 (and almost a half).
I share a home with several felines. In order of age, eldest first and youngest last, they are:
Smokey (Grey Tabby of slight design)
Gender Ambiguous Age 9
Fingolfin (aka Bruiser, Siamese Himalayan of stout stature)
Born summer-ish 2008, adopted September 2008
Male Age 6
Arwen (aka Stella, Grey Russian Blue Tabby of rotund stature)
Born summer-ish 2008
Found at gas station in Skagit Valley
Adopted December 2008
Female Age 6
Puck (Maine Coon of fluffy design).
Born summerish 2009
Adopted fall 2009
Male Age 5
Let’s say that the Skagit cats all live another 10 years, give or take. That will put me at 43-44 years of age. If I adopt another two cats (because let’s face it, four is just too much), each creature will likely live another 16 years.
Now, I am 60. What does 60 look and feel like? Will I want a cat? Will I want the freedomt to travel?
I could potentially get two more rounds of cats, possibly three if I am very long-lived and able.
Anyway, as I sat in the passenger seat doing the math, I could see my entire future before me. Did I have time to get an orange cat? What about a black cat to replace my beloved Izzy, whom I had given up to a family in Alaska before fleeing the state?
I love Russian Blue and Calico, too. There were so many choices and so many beings in need of safe haven and love.
It was clear that I needed to live a long life and also that I should probably try to relax a little bit.
I can remember my dad telling me about his desire to read as many books as possible before time ran out. Periodically, I think about all of the time I am wasting by not spending several hours a day dedicated to reading.
Am I just frittering away my precious time on this earth?
I don’t think I am, but there are so many hours in each day. Sometimes, I feel that I should be accomplishing much more with each passing hour.
Additionally, I must admit that I am a bit terrified of growing old. All of my joints and muscles ache, and I am still in the early 30s realm of my current decade.
And so I sit musing over mortality on a Monday morning.
I would love to hear your thoughts on this one life we are given; or if you believe in another realm beyond, reincarnation, or something entirely different.