Sunday, March 3, 2019

Grateful On This Particular Sunday


Bromeliad blossom on the grave of Elvis the Rooster. He is sorely missed and we shall always cherish his memory.

It's been a fine day for a Sunday. It was supposed to rain all day according to last night's forecast but instead, it was windy as could be and the sun popped in and out and there were long stretches where it was as beautiful a day as anyone could have wanted. We had thought, before the forecast last night, that we might take the boat out on the St. Mark's river with Jessie and Vergil and the boys and Vergil's father and his stepmama who are visiting but decided it wouldn't be a good idea and the radar showed some sketchiness this morning so we canceled that plan which made me a little sad because there's not much I'd rather do on a Sunday than go down the river and maybe stop for some oysters and beer and perhaps live music at one of the places that offer those pleasures.
But we got to see the relatives anyway when they all came by here to pick up some supplies for I'm not sure what but it had something to do with a barrel and hung out and visited for awhile. Vergil's dad's wife is a woman I feel eminently comfortable with and she and August and I came in the house and went straight to playing with Lincoln Logs and the bunnies and bears and some other toys but August seemed to be not quite his usual self. There has been a lot of company at their house lately and it's all been loving and beloved company but anything that disturbs a three year old's routine of regular bedtimes and naps and activities can be a little disturbing, even if it's wonderful and fun. So after awhile he was just over playing with stuff and carefully and methodically brushed everything off the little table where we were playing and on to the floor.
Go-Go, which is what he calls this grandmother (and it's a completely fitting name because she has boundless energy and is as fun as can be) looked at him and said, "August, what would your mother say if she saw you do that?"
He thought about it for a moment and then he answered, "Oh Lord."
We laughed and laughed. Well, the grandmothers did. August was serious.
We went outside to find Jessie and Levon and the men huddled around Mr. Moon's recently restored vintage Cushman Husky (google that if you want to) with Vergil ready to take a little ride on it around the yard. Which he did. August was amazed. Then his grandfather (known as Grandfather) took a ride on it. It was pretty cool to watch the men enjoy this toy-like motorcycle so much. August wanted a ride but instead, Mr. Moon started up the riding lawnmower which is a fancy thing and they had a ride on that instead, August wearing ear protection and looking completely intent and thrilled.
Men have all the good toys.
And then it was time for all of them to continue on with their plans which was to go to the Hilltop and get lunch and take it to the mounds for a picnic. We were invited but had some things going on here that we felt we needed to attend to although when August said to his Boppy, "Will you go with us to the Hilltop?" we almost caved.
But we get to see the boys a lot and Grandfather and Go-Go don't get to see them but a few times a year and in all fairness, when they're here they deserve to get all the one-on-one time with them that they can. So there were many hugs and off they drove and Mr. Moon went to work clearing more bamboo and I went back to the garden. I cleared out more ground to plant beans in and then freed the miniature beet re-seedlings from the encroaching weeds. This all feels like completely useless labor but as we all know by now, I sort of like to weed. As with ironing it is a very temporarily constructive achievement and never, ever-ending but when the weather is nice and I'm listening to something good as I work, it's not a bad way to spend some time. And I do believe that any time spent on one's knees in the dirt is therapeutic at the very least so there is that, too.

And that's how it's been today. Hanging out with sweet people, having good conversations with all of them including the three year old, getting dirty and not too ant-bit, feeling as much as seeing the advent of spring as the wind blows itself about bringing whatever it is portending,


and pondering everything from how fast my grandchildren are growing up to the very, very strange dream I had this morning which no, I really do not care to discuss although I will say that it featured Anthony Bourdain.

I've also been thinking a lot about the article in this morning's paper about a local doctor, hero, and generally amazing person named Dr. Brickler who, at the age of 90 and after over delivering over 30,000 babies, is supposedly retiring.


If you do a search at the top of my blog for Dr. Brickler, you will find a few posts that I've written in which he is mentioned. He's someone that I have had interactions with on and off for over forty years and I have always respected and admired him more than I can say. So our local paper did a huge front page article on him and what he has achieved and accomplished in his lifetime, all so very quietly and humbly, and I've been reflecting on him and his life all day long. Perhaps my favorite part of the article (which you can read HERE) was in the timeline of medical accomplishments of Dr. Brickler. The very last one said, "Feb.8, 2019- At 90 years old, he retires from practicing full-time." 
That cracks me up. I have a strong feeling that he is still going to be walking around the halls of L&D, wearing scrubs and checking up on how things are going. A nurse once told me that he can talk to the babies while they're waiting to be born and I like to imagine that he will never, ever completely quit having those conversations and making the mothers feel safer and reassured that all will be well.
And one thing I learned from the article which I had never known before was that his great aunt was Harriet Tubman.
Unbelievable.
And yet...that completely makes sense.

Some people are just a gift to this earth and Tallahassee has been exceptionally fortunate in having this man, this gift, in our midst. And we still are.

Well, there's a lot more I could talk about but luckily for you, I need to go put the chickens up and make our supper.

It's thundering off to the south east now and the rain has begun falling.

Peace.

Love...Ms. Moon











20 comments:

  1. what a lovely story about the baby doctor. You know I love such things. I've only attended about 1500 births but it's different working in a hospital. Some folks working around the babies are rather angelic.

    Makes me think of Sally, a midwife who lost her husband and her breasts to cancer but she kept going. We couldn't get an IV in a lady and we called her on a Sunday (natch). She came over, dropped that needle right in the vein, saving the momma from going to the hospital and didn't want anything for her trouble. Big hearted and wonderful woman.

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    1. You know, someone really has to love what they do to do it for that long. I love your story about Sally. Big-hearted, wonderful women are what power this planet, I think.

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  2. I will never tire of your pictures of your blooming world while mine is covered in snow and is currently below zero in temperature. Good night Ms Moon

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    1. That makes me feel better about posting flower pictures. I'll keep doing it, Jill.

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  3. It was thoughtful of you to allow Go-Go and Grandfather to have their own space in time with their grandsons and I salute Dr Brickler. May he have a long, happy and healthy retirement.

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    1. I think his retirement will be happy if he keeps wandering the halls of L&D wearing scrubs. As I recall, this is not his first retirement.

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  4. Dr Brickler does not look ninety but he does look like the earth angel he is, 30,000 births! His eyes are kind. Sounds like you had a good day with your in laws. Congenial in laws are a gift never to be underestimated. Love.

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    1. His eyes ARE kind. And you know, he's about the quietest doctor I've ever met. And yes- you're right about the congenial in-laws.

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  5. I have a doctor as a patient who is 92 and who is still working. If you love what you're doing, why stop?

    I will echo what Jill had to say, I love the photos of your flowers because my world is still covered with ice and snow. Take care woman.

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    1. As long as a doctor is still making good calls (no pun intended) and physically up to the challenge, why not!

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  6. I don't know if I'll ever get a spring garden planted since the weather just will not cooperate. torrential rain last Tuesday then more rain and drizzle and overcast and now it's cold again, supposed to get down to 30 tonight.

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    1. We got down into the thirties last night here but I don't think it froze. I'm blaming my lack of a garden on my laziness. I don't know what's wrong with me.

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  7. Well, that sounds like a busy day! After all that family activity (which I'm sure was wonderful) I can almost feel the peace and quiet of settling down to weeding. I like weeding too, but I always feel guilty about killing the weeds. Which is silly, I admit.

    Imagine having a relative as illustrious as Harriet Tubman! Incredible!

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    1. Try to think about weeds this way- they may actually be fine and valuable plants but the ones which choke the life out of the things we want to plant are welcome to grow elsewhere! And they will. Trust me.
      You should start composting your weeds and then you'd get life from their death, so to speak.
      Yes! Harriet Tubman!

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  8. How good he is slowing because he wants to, not because he must, for some reason. Everyone had a good weekend, including serious little August. Good.

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    1. Not sure he does want to but age will dictate some things. And since his son is still very much practicing, he'll probably not ever be quite out of the business.

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  9. Could we please have a picture of the Cushman? There are so many models and we are curious as to which one he has. Thanks!

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  10. God, I love the story of that fine doctor. His eyes are so beautiful, and he makes me think of Dr. Frymann, my kids' osteopath who kept practicing until she was nearly 95.

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    1. It IS all in the eyes, isn't it? Eyes you can look into and feel comforted and reassured.

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Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.