Friday, June 13, 2014


     Mr. P. called me before our scheduled appointment and asked, if it was OK to meet at his new place of residence instead of the Alameda library, where we usually have our sessions. 
     I came to his house, which he rents now from an old lady staying in the Assisted Living Home. The living room was cheery, with plush yellow carpet. On a low coffee table stood, perhaps, thirty ceramic angels and even more of them decorated the corners of the small room! "You are, obviously, well taken care off in here" - I said. 
     Mr. P. brought out a large, opaque-beige cat. It was a long haired Himalayan, with the pushed-in nose of that breed. My counselor stuck the fur ball into my arms, and I glanced into her blue eyes. She did not look pleased! Like many cats with the flat faces, she had trouble breathing. Plus to unfriendly demeanor, she kept snorting and wheezing, so I quickly dropped her on the canary hued carpet. The cat settled to check, if all her parts were in place, thoroughly licking them as she listened to our conversation.
      "If you wrote a book, what would be it's name? If you were in a parade, where would you like to be? If you could go back to when you were 19, what in your life would you do differently?" 
     Those were the questions on the Un-game cards. Mr. P. suggests that game to us, and uses it as a means to break ice in the beginning of a session. That was the first time he did that with me, and I liked that I could concisely relay an outlook on my life.
     "If I wrote a book, the title would be: "Searching for a better life"". "If I was in a parade, I would like to just seat on the side of the street, looking on, and leave when I get bored". "If I became 19 years old again, I would tell myself not to have such a tragic view on things as I used to have, and take them in stride". Now I think, the answer to that question should've been: "Believe in God and let Him work in your life".
     Mr. P. took out a thick, leather bound tome. I just wanted to ask if it was a Bible, when he said: "This is not a Bible!" It was a book of poetry by Edgar Guest. He read to me some of the poems, which were all about a person striving to live a modest, simple life of service to others. I quite enjoyed them, and we had a lot to talk about afterwords.
     The best part of the session came when we began talking of Taka's relationship with Sonny. I told Mr. P. how Taka badgers our son for hours, and Sonny comes out of those one-sided conversations ever more stooped-over and defeated. Mr. P. suggested that, I should talk to Sonny, to tell him that, every time he feels overwhelmed by his dad's ranting, he should get out on the house for a few hours. I can even send him on some errand, to provide a reason, why he should leave right away. It's a good idea, and I didn't want to sound negative, but on many an occasion, when I tried to extricate Sonny out of Taka's talking sessions, Taka wouldn't let him leave. Perhaps, it will work from now on!
     As we talked, the cat stayed between us, sometimes licking herself, sometimes sneezing or dragging her fuzzy behind on the carpet to relieve some itch. Mr. P. told me that, since her owner was at the Assisted Living place, the cat stayed in the house alone for a year and a half. Someone would come every couple of days to give her food and clean litter, - that 's all! Now, she enjoyed human company and didn't leave us even for a short bit. She became friendlier too: at one point, she rolled over on her side, showing us a furry belly, and looked at me, flirting! I even imagined her batting her eyes at me!

No comments:

Post a Comment