24 Hours Makes a Difference

Such words of wisdom that have often been repeated to me by my mother through the years. I never use to believe her. At times I did everything possible to convince myself not to believe her.

But on-going biology experiments, aging (and life in general), seem to have confirmed what my mom has been lovingly trying to teach me all of these years; that I can have hope in my tomorrows. So when I feel like that poor tadpole struggling in a less than perfect environment for one more breath under circumstances beyond my control, I try to remember the encouraging words of my mother, the woman who taught me that tomorrow can look really different from today.

Take our "all day long" upside down tadpole, for example. The hardest part of my day yesterday--and I mean hard, was deciding whether or not to let this poor, unsightly creature live out his last dying breath in a clean tank full of water (the least I could do)...or flush him down the toilet to the real cesspool below ground in our septic tank where he would have a quick end to his misery, however disgusting and pathetic his last moments might be. Dad even suggested taking him outside and squishing him under foot for a more dignified death. That was simply not an option for me or my squeamish little girls who were quite attached to their fishy little friend by now.

My guilt was nearly unbearable. I already felt overwhelmingly responsible for his untimely disability. Now I was going to be responsible for his death as well. And the pleas of my children rang through my ears up until the time I tucked them into bed.

"Please Mommy, I just want him to live."
"Mommy, I just want him to swim right again."
"You can't send him to the poop tank, it reeks."

So I did what my mother would do in a situation like this. I told them we would wait until tomorrow. At least I could wash my hands of the murder and perform a decent burial for the little guy.

Twenty-four hours later:

He's still alive...and making great strides to right himself. And he's definitely swimming and eating...sideways now. We'll just call him one of life's little miracles. Though he's still struggling and tipping over, I guess he felt that life was worth fighting for. What a great visual for my children. Oh, and me, too.