Changed Course

My son has dreamed about owning a cat café for as long as I can remember, now which is probably well over 20 years now.

This wasn't some sort of divine calling. It also wasn't a sign from the universe. Instead it was a kid with an idea and a mother who didn't say "No."

It was when we first moved from Pennsylvania to Illinois. That was a dramatic move to begin with. We were homeless and felt like we were being pushed out of Pittsburgh so we left.

Leaving is always an ending. The version of your life that was happening then and there is over. I had goals attached to my life there. One of them I'm still dreaming of today.

I want to be a published magazine writer. My dream is something that I'm working on just like I was working on it then. I'm working on it now just like I was then. It's in the background. I don't tell many people about it because, quite honestly, I don't have many people who are close to me whom I can tell.

That's the other thing you should know here. We don't have a lot of friends or family. Nobody was there to tell us that we were being foolish. There wasn't anyone to sit us down and tell us we aren't equipped to make our dreams come true. In other words, we didn't get talked out of them because there wasn't anyone there to do the talking.

Neither of us would let go of our dreams. There wasn't a chorus of reasonable adults to interrupt them. Even his dream went on uninterrupted. I was the only one there. Admittedly I felt exhausted with my chronic illnesses and being a single mom. Maybe I was only half-listening, not realizing how serious he was about this "charming idea."

It wasn't that I didn't like cats. Even though I'd grown up being scared of dogs, I'd still say that I'm more of a dog person today. I thought I'd always be a dog person and nothing in this life would ever change that.

My son and I didn't start off hoping to build something. We simply took in a stray cat who needed a home. One led to another and before you knew it our house was full of them.

There wasn't a plan here so there wouldn't be a soft launch. We were deep in the waters before we even decided upon a name. It was simply a period of time when we were being reactive instead of being proactive.

A needy cat would show up and we'd meet its needs. The next day was a repeat of the day before it, kind of like in the movie "Groundhog Day." I didn't know at that time that we were becoming something. I didn't have that foreknowledge, instead I simply had the next cat.

Now that I look back on that time I can see how things were slowly changing. The one thing I couldn't see as these changes were occurring wasn't a moment with a cat. It was how my son was continually talking about his dream. He didn't set out to build a cat sanctuary. He just couldn't let go of his dreams for long enough so that it would become real around him.

Today there are 13 cats, all of whom have special needs. All these cats are ones who nobody else wanted to take a chance on.

We chose the name Special Little Whiskers as it sounds tidy. Most of our days are spent cleaning litter boxes, offering food, and providing them with any medication they may need. This is unphotographed, unglamorous labor. It's work that never makes it to anyone's social media feed.

Somehow I still find time to write. I have to be structured to get it done because idle time doesn't really exist around here anymore. Each sentence, each chore, each moment of care now has to be structured.

I admit I love cats more than I ever thought I would in the past. I won't undersell or lie about that. However, I will still tell you I'm more of a dog person, yes, even today. Loving cats didn't change who I fundamentally am. It simply added to my list of things I love in this life.

None of this came easy or free. All of this has cost me a lot of time and rest. The sanctuary doesn't know or understand that I'm chronically ill. It doesn't pause just because my body wants to rest.

In the past I was able to sit down and relax for an hour whenever I wanted and without doing anything. This is rare now. I doubt it'll ever return now that there are always at least 13 cats who need me. Sure, it's not a fair trade or a hidden gift. Instead, it's simply a cost that I pay for most days.

Would I ever want to undo the move? Forego the idea of owning a real building instead of operating out of our home? Return to the life that I had before we moved to Illinois?

These are all things that I don't really ever think about. It's not that I've truly made peace with moving away from Pennsylvania. In fact, I'll tell you at any time that I miss my "home." However, I'm content with my life.

Maybe this is the least dramatic ending possible. There's no grief here for me to provide with a meaning. There's no rock bottom or rescue. There's just my son who wanted a cat café and me, the mother who didn't have anyone to help her talk him out of it. Now there are also 13 cats who never asked to be someone's entire life but now they are.

I'm still chasing my dreams. I still want the magazine byline. It's something I slowly work towards each day. I do so quietly now in the few minutes here and there that the sanctuary leaves me. This still hasn't resolved itself but maybe that's how it's supposed to be for now, at least.