One Less Frog

I've mentioned more than once in my blog posts that I have a wacky variety (and number) of pets in my apartment. Up until this week, I'd had two gray tree frogs. I found one of them dead in the tank on Tuesday, which was a bummer to say the least. It was just a frog, and I didn't cry over it, but my heart still sank in my chest. A little light in the world had gone out.

People have a hard time understand how or why I have such a passion for these animals. I know my frogs or geckos or tarantulas don't love me. They are not consciously aware of me beyond my being some giant looming shape that sometimes picks them up and drops food into their containers. And while the death of my frog did not bring tears to my eyes, I was still saddened.

These creatures captivate me, their very existence is a joy and wonder. Have you ever stopped to think how absolutely amazing it is that these little frogs can be frozen solid and thaw out to continue life as usual? If a human freezes, we die, that's it. These frogs not only live through that, it's part of their natural life cycle! They really are amazing creatures, from their little suction-cup-like gripping feet to their sticky tongues and color-changing skin.

The closest frog in the photo above is the one that died. I'll miss hearing them sing to each other. I'll miss how delicate it was compared to its larger companion, which allowed it to snuggle up to the tiny fake leaves in its tank. I'll miss my frog, and there's nothing wrong with that. I just wish more people could understand that even a life as tiny as a frog's can be precious. Cheers...

And He's Gone

My paternal grandfather passed away early this Thursday morning. After making it through a broken back, throat cancer and two heart attacks, he finally succumbed to lung cancer. He was 75 years old and has 5 children and 11 grand children. We're all going to miss him very, very much.

I feel for my grandmother. They'd been married 51 years. I can't imagine how it must feel for her, to now be forever separated from the one person she loves most, and who she has been with since the age of 15. That chasm of pain frightens me.

I feel like I'm in a haze after the last 48 hours of hospital bedside watching and crying and consoling and family and food and more crying. I've been going from overloading on emotions, to feeling almost numb. But it feels good to be alone now, away from all the guilty smiles and tear rimmed eyes.

 1935 - 2011

He went peacefully, with a gentle last exhale of life, surrounded by those who loved him. For this I am thankful. The above photo is of he and I before he broke his back or ever got sick, and this is how I want to remember him.

Cel