Tuesday, December 16, 2014
We Are Made Of Dreams And Bones, Need A Spot To Call My Own Until The Time Is At Hand
I love this picture. I just do. The way it makes the eave upstairs look like a Dr. Seuss addition to the house. The Christmas lights in the window with the hanging fern beside them. The gingerbread trim. The sky behind still lit a little from the last rays of the setting sun.
My house. It brings me comfort and it brings me joy.
As Kathleen's house brings her comfort and joy. Tomorrow they are going to move her to Hospice House in Tallahassee and I think (and she said) that it will be a good thing.
Her husband has been all alone in tending to her with help, of course, from visiting nurses from Hospice but he is so tired and is facing some pretty severe and painful physical challenges himself. And Kathleen worries about him and he worries about her and I think she will be more at peace with him, still there by her side, but with her care being administered by other attendants.
That man took a wrecked up and abandoned house and turned it into a beautiful home which is peaceful in all ways. And beautiful. Their dogs and their cats and their chickens and their ducks live there. The kids, they call them. There's a pond where he feeds the fish. There is pretty artwork on the walls of the house and a Florida Room which looks out on it all and a patio with a fountain and a table and chairs.
He has worked like a man on a loving mission.
Which is exactly what he has been.
He has taken Kathleen and her father to Spain. Her father was in a wheel chair and needed a great deal of help. He took Kathleen across the country on his Harley. He has taken her down the river many times in their boat. He has loved her tremendously. He has married her and made all of the promises you make and he has kept them.
And now it is time to just let him love her and let others take over her care.
So. This is probably her last night in her beloved nest which her beloved man created for her.
I went over this afternoon to sit with her while he ran to Monticello to do a few errands. Kathleen mostly slept and I stayed in the living room, close by to make sure she was all right and I let her rest. The two dogs, Bob and Pig, slept in her room and every time I went to check on her, Bob lifted his head and wagged his tail as if to say, "We've got this covered." And they did.
Now I am home. It has been a long day but I got a nap in the middle of it. I had gone to the dentist and all is well there. I chatted with my dental-assistant girl about her babies and Christmas. I got an X-ray. The doctor came in and checked and right in the middle of the exam he said, "Well, actually..."
And I froze up inside because you know me.
But then he said, "I think the crown can be started in January instead of February. This looks very good."
And he took my hands when it was time to leave and said, "I hope that all of this has not been too hard on you."
And I told him that his office and his staff are wonderful and that it has all been very fine. And he wished me a merry Christmas and that was that.
I drove to Fanny's then. Not to eat lunch, but just to hug and kiss my daughter May, which I did. Sometimes I just gotta get May love. Then to Target where I was looking for a specific toy for Owen which of course they were out of and so I went to Toys R (backward) Us and bought the last one they had.
If nothing else, I have gotten my grand babies their toys.
I did not pass out in either of those two places although the whole time I was shopping I was thinking, "Gotta get out of here. Gotta get out of here."
I swear, every woman in Target was thinner than a knife blade. I texted a friend that I had not gotten the memo that it was incredibly thin woman day at the Target. There were women who were almost impossible to see if they turned sideways who were the mothers of three-month-old infants. It was very odd and I am not sure why they let me in the door.
But. I did it. I got my boy his dream present.
And when I got home, I ate some leftovers and fell on the bed and slept for an hour. I have done almost nothing physical at all in the past few days but I am exhausted nonetheless and I know why and it's okay and I am glad I slept.
I have laundry to fold and put away and supper to make because my husband is coming home. My own "kid," Maurice, is here to love and bite me. My little tree is lit and glowing. The sky is entirely dark now, the chicken kids put away for the night, the eggs gathered, the greens for a salad picked.
I think of how much these small things of living make me happy. How happy they have always made Kathleen.
Here's a video of Pete Seeger singing her favorite song.
She has lived inch by inch and made fertile ground.
I would like to do the same.
Good night, y'all.