There I was this morning, 5:30 a.m., buried beneath three blankets in Tom's recliner, watching the local news and still feeling horrible about Lennon. Just horrible.
So I shook myself, stood up, stepped here (wrapped in a blanket) to the computer and googled something like, "how to survive the death of a pet," because my oh my, I was needing something to yank me out of this!
And well, I believe I found just the thing. It's a book called Cold Noses At The Pearly Gates by Gary Kurz. Frankly, it sounds perfect so I searched our county's library data base, found it nowhere, so after a trip over to abebooks.com I discovered a copy for just $1. And ordered it, of course.
Then, feeling better, more hopeful already, I decided to stroll over to Netflix where I discovered a new-to-me classic old black-white-movie called The Mating Season in the instant movie section. I began playing it, absolutely enjoyed it, but then, with Thelma Ritter and Gene Tierny, how could it be anything but remarkable?
Well, Time quickly grew short (since morning hours speed twice as fast, you know) so I decided to save The Mating Season to our instant queue, finish it later, and well, you know how when you do that, a few rows of similar movies pops up?
Oh. My. Goodness. That's when I saw it.
No Man of Her Own with Barbara Stanwyck! Do you know how long I've searched for that movie?! No, of course you don't. Well, it's been nearly 30 years. Thirty years!! For that's when I first watched it alone and, ever since then, I've wanted to not only watch it again, but share it with Tom. Yet drats! I could never find it anywhere and oh, all the video store shelves I have searched and library video shelves and online data bases every year or so since 2000. But all I ever found was another old movie by the same name--not the Barbara Stanwyck one.
It's still not even out on dvd (that I can find)**, yet there, over at Netflix, it popped up for sad, sorry-for-myself me. After thirty years of searching. And you know? I have just enough childlike faith to believe God arranged this just for me, for such a time as this, as a tiny part of His making this Lennon tragedy up to me. Just as He promised last week He would.
He's like that, you know, as long as we hang in there and believe.
**Correction--Nancy R. found a copy. But alas, now that I've watched it 'free-ish' with Tom at Netflix, I am one happy camper. :)