Saturday, February 7, 2015

We Swim In The River Of It All

I continued to be as lazy today as I started out. I "worked" a little bit in the garden but decided that what I was doing could be done far more effectively and infinitely more quickly with a roto-tiller. Calling Mr. Moon! We laid down for a little nap in the afternoon and he slept for about five minutes and I slept for two hours.
Hey- it was beautiful. It was lovely. It was okay with the universe. Trust me.
I got up and grudgingly put on real clothes and a sort-of-bra and went to Publix. Lily was there but was busy checking out customers and I didn't even get a hug. Oh well. It was good to just lay my eyes on her.

So. Valentines Day, eh? Coming on up. As I said, we'll be in Apalach with Lon and Lis and I've already told Mr. Moon what I really and truly want for Valentines. I want a trash can with a good-fitting lid to put chicken feed in. And I'm not kidding. That would make my life about a thousand times easier. My sweetie's been incredibly good with the jewelry lately and it's time to not be silly and to ask for what I want which is a trash can. With a good fitting lid. To keep out the raccoons.
And if he wants to give me a few chocolates and kiss my face, I'll take that too.
For us, chickens are romantic. This is one of the best things about getting older and being in love with the same sweet fella for a long, long time. We walk hand-in-hand to the hen house and collect eggs. We marvel at them and bring them in and feel rich.
Good god. Who would ever have believed that?

Our across-the-street neighbors have a beloved sister staying with them who is in hospice care. She's been dealing with cancer for seven years and now it's time to let the treatment go and to be in some peace. Last night we saw EMT's come and go in the darkness of midnight and I feared the worst. No. That's the wrong choice of words. She's ready to go. I didn't fear anything. The outcome is inevitable and is going to happen. We talked to our neighbors this morning and they are themselves at peace about the situation and she did not die last night, the sister, but had a precipitous drop in blood pressure which was resolved. I gave them a bunch of eggs because they have family coming in from all over and people need to eat. I took them some soup the other day and I will try to keep up with helping to keep people fed. Paul said to me and Glen this morning that it is a comfort to him to know that we are here. He knows we've been through this more than a few times and as we all agreed, death is a part of it and we can't even begin to know how many people have died in these old houses we are so fortunate to live in.

Life and death. I feel lucky to be firmly aware and part of that process. Someday I, too, will die and I hope it will be at home. I had my babies at home and that was a major miracle and blessing in my life and I know it. The day we all started letting "the man" (or hell- the medical system) take charge of our beginnings and our endings was not a good day for our spiritual and emotional health.
Yeah. I'm glad it's there when we need it. Trust me. I am.
But when it's not- when a baby is coming and all is well or a death is nearing and there is nothing to do but to give comfort and love, then home is the place to be.

Bless midwives. Bless hospice.

Let us try not to be afraid.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. Life is so rich isn't it?

    Having been on the receiving end of things like eggs and soup, your neighbors are touched I am sure.

  2. Saturday night sermon. So, so beautiful and wise.

  3. How did I miss this? It is so beautiful and so true. Sweet Jo

  4. Catching up here. You are so right, there is nothing to fear. So why are we all so fearful of the end? Maybe we just don't want to be away from our loved ones and think thats what death means.

  5. What a wise and beautiful post. People should not die surrounded by strangers.

  6. I lost my fear of death long long ago. it is sad when people we love die but it is the end for us all so why fear. I hope to go at home. I can't think of a worse way to die than in a hospital wired up to machines.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.