Mothers are amazing.
They are beautiful. They are nurturing. They love in that sacrificial kind of way. There is real, life giving power in the way mothers love nearly everyone.
That is what amazes me the most. That her love and concern doesn’t seem to stop with where her child is concerned. She seems to anticipate the needs of everyone around her, and wants to do as much for those around her as possible. There never seems to be “too much” for a mother to handle.
I am not a mother, nor do I have any of her qualities. I am hoping that when I have children this amazing love will consume and transform me, as for now, however, it is a game of wait and see.
Every day I gain more and more appreciation for these amazing women, and last Monday when I picked Nala up from the vet was no exception.
Nala had his manhood surgically removed last week. Mark dropped him off, and I was going to pick him up that afternoon when I got off of work.
I let them know I was there to pick up Nala McKinney-Oates. She told me I could have a seat and they’d be with me in a minute. I waited.
I waited about 15 minutes and started to wonder what was going on. Had they killed Nala, and didn’t have the heart to tell Mark when he called to check in on him? Had they lost him? Could God really answer prayers that fast? Surely not.
Finally, I was called back to check Nala out and pay the bill. As the vet tech took care of the paperwork she made the comment, “He is not happy with us that’s for sure”. She was talking about Nala, Mark’s cat.
I finished paying and checking out, and still had no cat. She said to wait, she was going to go check on everything.
As she turned into one of the rooms I heard something crash. Followed by a horrible hissing.
Oh dear, I thought, I wonder what is going on.
I actually knew one of the vet assistants, and he came out to the waiting area and asked, “Is that your cat giving them trouble in there?”
That horrible racket was my cat?!? I mean, Mark’s cat?!?
I hate attention, and I absolutely despise negative attention.
“Um, what’s going on? Is he ok? Was that what all that noise was?”
“Yeah, he got out of the kennel, and is behind the door… don’t worry they’ll get him.”
Mark’s cat was acting a fool, and I couldn’t do anything about it but apologize.
“I am sorry, so sorry. Has he hurt anyone? I am so sorry. This is so embarrassing. I mean, he is my husband’s cat, so I don’t really know how to control him. He used to be so loving, the cat not the husband, and it all just changed, ya know? I am so sorry. This is so embarrassing.”
More crashing and hissing.
I apologized some more, and then horrible thoughts started coming to my mind. Could I leave? Just walk out? I’ve already paid, they couldn’t press charges or anything… Just. Quietly. Walk. Away.
I was in the middle of dreaming up how I would tell Mark that Nala, his cat, had been picked up by a Hollywood talent scout that promised to make Nala a star and that Nala would write as soon as he got to L.A. when my friend walked out with Mark’s mad-as-heck cat in a carrier. I thanked him profusely and got out of there as fast as possible.
I lectured Nala all the way home about how embarrassing his actions were, and that he needed to have more respect for his family and the McKinney-Oates name. Our family does not behave that way in public. And next time? Next time I would leave his sorry butt there. Just walk out. Watch me.
And in all my anger and embarrassment I realized that I am still waiting for that mother love to kick in. I just don’t know how they do it…