Stream of Consciousness

    Do brown slugs eat dead toads?

    That very question crossed my mind yesterday morning when I saw a dead toad in the driveway with a live slug on top of it.  A couple trips down the driveway later, the slug had disappeared, but the toad was still intact.

    After a lovely week with fifteen-month-old Benjamin, I’m getting right back into the rhythm of life here at Casa Del Gato.  Instead of hefting a baby, I’m lugging laundry.  (The baby is heavier and more fun.)

    Benjamin equals joy.  His delight when his mommy picks him up is contagious.  The funny faces he makes for his daddy make us laugh.  His intense concentration on music and rhythm is exciting.  His smiles and his laughter warm this grandma’s heart. He is a baby secure in his parents’ love. 

    Dana and I are on different ends of the caregiving life.  She is teaching her child new things, providing enriching opportunities and lots of love.  I am coasting with Mom’s gradually declining abilities, allowing space for her to do the things she loves.  Dana signs to Benjamin when she speaks.  I see signs of waning memory when Mom speaks.  Both of us have important roles to play.  Both of us face challenges unique to our situations.  Both of us find joy and lots of evidence of God’s gigantic grace in the smallest daily details.

    But I am the only one who writes about slugs.