I’m being forgetful lately.
I just remembered a conversation I had with my mother the other day where she asked me if she could give my duck, Quackers, away.
I kind of felt strongly against it. When I look at the picture above I think about all the moments I spent with her and how much I love going back to the farm and hearing her start quacking when I put my mothering voice on.
She is such a sweet little thing.
My mother went on to say that it’s hard for them to go anywhere – holidays, mostly – because they have animals on the farm to look after.
I didn’t think it was fair on them, and I guess I can’t take her.
So I agreed, on the terms that she went somewhere nice – where she would be looked after. No ending up on the dinner table for Christmas lunch or in a dog food can. Apparently they know someone at work who has a farm – the same person they gave the other ducks to when we had too many.
On another note – my partner thinks he had an anxiety attack yesterday. I picked him up from work and the first question out of his mouth was: “what does it feel like to have a panic attack?”
You’d think I’d be more prepared for a moment like this, but I sort of floundered with my words and ended up confusing him more than helping. So he asked about the symptoms and I listed them.
The uncomfortable feeling didn’t leave him all night. It’s kind of scary knowing that someone as strong and “together” as my partner could have a panic attack.