Tiny paws to the rescue

It was April, after pouring rain and so many troubling thoughts. Should I stay, should I take a step, and … more than anything … could I leave behind what my life had been until then?

No one ever tells you that what you do, even in your childhood, can change your path permanently. And that was precisely what I was anticipating. Dreading and looking forward at the same time.

Up until 12, I had lived a quiet, happy, if secluded, life with my grandparents in their home. I never questioned why I didn’t have my parents close or if there was anything wrong. Every time we spoke about them my grandmother would say they had to work so we could all have what we need and somehow, I didn’t resent them for not being there.

It felt like they had a duty to work far away. And I was never given too much free time to start questioning or even feel upset about it. And suddenly at 12, I was told that I could choose to go and live with them or stay with my grandparents.

Now, even though I had never been upset with them, I didn’t really know my parents, so the very idea just startled me in the beginning. Then I gave it some serious thought and got to the idea that it might be something I must do. How do you even know yourself if you’re never close to your parents?

So it was that on that afternoon I was pondering. To me, it felt like I would be abandoning my grandparents, but at the same time, I was excited about new things to come. And since at 12 there are so many other issues going on, I was also worried about my tiny friends, the bunnies, and the squirrels who lived in the trees in our backyard.

What would they do when I was gone? What if they thought I didn’t like them anymore? That proved to be the most painful question of them all. They couldn’t speak … who would explain to them why I left? And if I ever came back, would they be upset and not come to me anymore?

I had been out walking since morning, grandma’s famous waffles with honey and nutmeg long gone, and was still trying to take up my mind when a gust of wind suddenly made me look up. The sky must have been in the same frame of mind since it was dark, partly purple, mostly blue-black with tiny yellow streaks where only blue had been a few hours ago. It was too far to get back to the house, and I still wanted to be on my own for a while.

So, I waited under a tree, knowing that rain does sometimes pass if the sky’s not the darkest hue. I sat down on the grass and started counting tiny yellow flowers. They were everywhere, and even walking felt like greeting them. They didn’t mind the coming rain or even worry about it. They looked happy and smiling, with full petals open to greet any weather.

And it turned out I wasn’t the only one saying hi to them. Tiny paws soon showed up in the same patch of grass where I was sitting. And they weren’t just any paws. It was Gabe, the squirrel who always came on my windowsill in the mornings while I was reading.

As I kept listening to the wind, he stepped gently closer, and when I looked down, I saw tiny paws touching the little flowers. Not hurting them, barely brushing the petals. There were no acorns in sight, and I was caught without any snack to give, so I just looked at Gabe.

Luckily, he must have had his lunch already since he didn’t seem in any hurry to scour the place for something crunchy. He just stayed there and looked back. Not like usual when as soon as I made a move he ducked out of sight.

So, I knew something was different this time. I told him what had happened, and that I was confused and didn’t want to leave my grandparents or him and the bunnies and his fellow tiny squirrels. And then I asked him if he would miss me or be sad.

The next second I felt strange like I shouldn’t have said that. But he got very close just then and put one paw on my knee. He stayed like that for a few minutes and looked at me, and then put both paws on my knee. And somehow everything felt clear at that moment. It was ok, the squirrels and the bunnies did understand and wouldn’t be upset.

It also made me feel they actually wanted me to go out there and see new things and come back and tell them all about it.

That’s what I did the very next week. I only packed half my things and started on a completely new life. But I always came back on the weekends to talk to plushy gray bunnies and the little squirrels. And Gabe was there for every meeting we had, resting his paws often on my jeans.

I think that’s how it goes. Wherever you go, you leave a part of yourself behind. And you come back to connect and see your old friends. Small paws, big paws, they all touch your heart, and there’s no way to abandon them. Going forward is also making a circle and reaching out to where you started from.

And grandma’s waffles helped the exchange a lot. They were weekend soul food for a very long time, up until starting university classes. The tiny push from those paws gave me what I needed to step away from uncertainly and not be scared of change.

As published on Medium.