Time is something we take for granted when we have it, complaining about how we have so much of it. Once it's gone we mourn its loss and wonder whether it was ever ours to begin with.
This year has been a year of change for me.
In June, just a month after I wrote the column about the possibility that Derek and I were going to be just like Jon and Kate with kids spawned with the help of medical science, I discovered we weren't so infertile after all.
No, after eight years of marriage, we were pregnant. That discovery was one of the biggest blessings in my life.
"Wow," I marveled, "and I don't even have morning sickness!"
Spoke too soon. The next week I had morning sickness.
Oh boy, did I have morning sickness.
I learned the art of rising from bed and immediately chomping Saltines, while Derek perfected the art of turning up the TV volume when I ran to the bathroom in our cozy studio.
When we found out we were having a daughter, we were shocked and thrilled. Derek's mom's family hadn't had a girl in a generation.
As the pregnancy progressed, I learned all kinds of things, like why elastic is freaking awesome. As I write this column now, I am approaching my 30th week.
I admit I am scared. Not so much about the birth and delivery of our daughter, although that does give me the occasional freak-out, but more so that it is now time for me to take that full step into adulthood.
"Whatchu talkin' 'bout, Willis?!" you ask, thinking Gen's nuts – she's 33! She's been an adult for 15 years!
Well, no, I don't think I have. My college years were spent cavorting with friends, my post-college years were as a young married, and up until recently I was able to put off impending adulthood by attending law school with classmates up to eight years younger than me.
On Dec. 10, however, life gave me that last swift kick in the pants I needed when I lost the one true tie to my childhood.
My cat, Minky, who was given to me as a 17th birthday present by my mom, passed on to that great Rainbow Bridge in the sky.
About two weeks before we lost Minky, she began smelling odd. Soon afterward she began clawing frantically at her mouth after every meal.
It was an abnormal behavior for sure. I thought it could be a rotting tooth.
"We'll take her to the vet and get it fixed," Derek said. We made the appointment, laughingly telling her she would be a toothless old lady cat.
All too soon her appointment came. We packed her up in the dog bag she loved and drove to the vet in rush hour traffic. "Ugh! When are we ever going to get there!" I grumbled.
"Maybe we should reschedule," Derek suggested. After a quick call to the vet, who assured us we would be fine for the current appointment, we continued on.
Once we arrived, we were shown to a room, where Minky was weighed. She was 5 pounds! I couldn't believe it. In just July she had been a whopping 7 pounds. She had lost almost one-third of her body weight.
It wasn't a good sign.
The vet came in and pet Minky, who was always a laidback cat. She opened Minky's mouth to see the cause of the problem and looked at us with sympathetic eyes.
"I'm sorry to tell you this, but Minky has a tumor."
A tumor. Not an abscessed tooth, but a tumor. One that was taking my Minky away from me.
That drive to the vet's office now seemed all too fast.
Apparently Minky's was a painful condition, one that would only grow worse in the coming two weeks.
Derek and I had to make a difficult decision to have Minky euthanized. Even though the vet offered us two more weeks with her, complete with steroids for her pain, we knew it would be selfish to cling to her just so that we could have that small amount of time. She was in pain and would only worsen as the hateful tumor grew larger, making food, drink and comfort a non-issue.
As Derek left to settle the account and make the arrangement, I held Minky for one last time. She always liked to be held so that her chin could rest on my right shoulder. I asked her if she remembered how we first met at the Hawaiian Humane Society way back when.
Scores of memories came flooding back. Minky had been with me from the end of my teens, through my 20s and into my 30s. I was so fortunate to have had her for 16 years.
She moved with me from Honolulu to Hilo, from Hilo to Mililani, from Mililani to San Diego, briefly from San Diego to Las Vegas, and then from Las Vegas back to San Diego. She had seen more cities than some people I know.
She met my friends and grew to adore my husband, sometimes so much so I was jealous of the attention he received.
She saw me through undergraduate and post-graduate studies. She woke me every morning with a gentle, but mostly annoying, poke of a claw while I was studying for law school exams.
When it was time to administer the shot that would take my Minky forever, she seemed to accept that it was time. We held her, soothed her and kissed her until she took that last breath.
After she was gone, she lay there with a slight smile on her face. She looked as she did when she would lie out and bask in the sun's rays that would shine through our blinds.
She was my oldest, closest friend; a friend who was also my muse – the character of Minky Chan in "The Original Poi Cats on O`ahu" was obviously based on my smart Minky.
I truly believe friends come into your life when you need them. People suggested I get another cat to help take some of my heartbreak away, but I don't think I could ever replace Minky's sunny spot in my heart. She will always be my cat, the cat who knew my moods.
And, to be honest, with our baby on the way, I already have my hands full with another being to teach, love and befriend. No, the next cat we get will be our daughter's kitten, one who will grow with her and watch her through the years, as Minky watched me.
So as the year comes to an end, I have thoroughly experienced a wondrous beginning as well as a heartbreaking end. This Christmas, I will miss Minky more than anything, but I am still looking forward to the next year when I welcome a new phase of my life.
As I said before, I bid adieu to my childhood with Minky's passing. It's time now for me to be the adult while my daughter grows into her own life, enjoying her own young years.
They say that the past is history, the future is a mystery, and the present is a gift. Rather than worry about the waste of time, lack of time, or even having too much time, it is important to appreciate whatever time we have.
With the coming of the New Year, I intend to make that appreciation of time my No. 1 resolution. Because when it comes to those we love, it seems time is always in short supply.
