maximum capacity

We as a nation can’t seem to cut a break this week. The planets must need some serious realignment.

I have to admit that I’ve felt guilty not absorbing every word of news pertaining to the Boston Marathon bombing. I haven’t yet read Gabby Giffords’ reaction to last night’s failed gun vote in the Senate. A fertilizer plant exploded in Texas? Luckily I have NPR to tell me what I need to know.

While a lost cat seems trivial to all the tragedy that happens each second of the day the world over, it’s what I’m capable of focusing on in this minute. I can’t control whether a nut or nuts bomb an iconic U.S. sporting event (one that is dear to me in a city that used to be my home). I certainly can’t control how the U.S. Senate votes. But I can do everything in my power to find a beloved pet and return her to my devastated children.

While I believe as humans we have unlimited ability to love, laugh and show compassion, I also think there’s a maximum amount of sadness, fear, heartache and despair that one can shoulder.

So for this week, and hopefully it’s not even a full week, I focus my attention closer to home. I’m sadly cynically confident that there won’t be a lack of bigger issues awaiting my attention when our own family crisis is over.


One thought on “maximum capacity”

  1. Hugs to you and your boys. Although I know it may not be likely, could it be that Fluffy was sick and went off to be at peace? Cats do this all the time – perhaps it could provide some solace amongst the other grim thoughts.

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