Dad

Yesterday I spent the day with my mother. We waited together at home while my father was undergoing surgery to remove a cancerous kidney. The day was difficult in many ways, but I felt strength from being a family that loves each other so much. My mother was a rock all day, faltering only after the surgeon called to say the operation went smoothly. She worries that she will upset her grown children if she cries, meanwhile her grown children are worrying about her anyway. My brother John did what I think was the hardest part, he brought my parents in to the hospital at 5:15am, and then said goodbye to our Dad, and took my Mum to breakfast. Later, on the phone, John said that leaving Dad was tough. I told him I didn’t know if I could have done it. My brother Dave came in to the hospital for the afternoon. He is big guy, but just such a quiet, gentle presence. His part was to wait and just be there, which he does without complaint. It was nice to spend a little time with my brother, just getting an ice coffee, and sitting in the solarium reading magazines, commenting on the articles. When my father was taken from recovery to his room, we were all there, anxious just to see his face. He was extremely groggy, and really suffering with the pain. It is so hard to see him like that, and wish someone could do something, but for now he has to bear the pain alone. Watching my mother wiping her husband’s brow and telling him over and over that everything is ok was mesmerizing. I look at them connected like that and think of how they have been together for 50 years. I think of all the life they have experienced together and I sit in awe of their commitment. Even at 45 years old, I can look at my father and feel like a little girl. It is scary to see him in agony and incapacitated. Deep in my mind I am thinking, he couldn’t take care of me now if I needed him, and it’s a thought I have to squelch. My Dad hasn’t had to take care of me for well over 25 years, but apparently I have always found comfort in knowing I could turn to him anytime. In my heart I just want to take care of him, and ease his misery today. As he grows older, I feel more and more protective of him. As I grow older, and gradually realize what is most important in this life; my father becomes more and more perfect in my eyes.

Blue Heron

As I walked along this morning; a Blue Heron flew over my path. I walk alone & without music, so all I have is my thoughts. Several times in my life, when I have been in pain, or just feeling down; I see a Blue Heron. There is something about the regal position they hold as they fly, and the glow of peace as they glide, that commands my complete attention for the moment. I became interested in this bird over 10 years ago when I was vacationing on the cape. I rented a tiny guest house on a beautiful marsh leading out to the beach. I spent alot of my time on the deck with my binoculars, marveling at the wildlife. There was a Blue Heron living in that marsh, and for the week, I followed his life like it was a soap opera. I have always enjoyed seeing new birds and looking them up in my field guide, but this bird was fascinating to me. Ever since then, a Blue Heron has appeared whenever I need some hope. One time in particular I remember really suffering over the loss of my dearly loved Akita, and I looked up and saw the Blue Heron. For that moment I felt the grief's grip on my heart ease a little. I have started to wonder if it is always the same bird, or different ones. Either way, I see it as a sign from God, that one day, everything with be alright. That thought alone, makes me relax, and trust.

So Get Going Already

For many weeks now, I have been telling myself that I will get up at 5:00am and go out for a walk. Every morning something got in the way. Believe me, I was up at that time, but maybe so was Charlotte. She always wants to come on the walk. Now sometimes I walk with her in the afternoons, but it is a test in patience. She Queens the stroller, asking for more juice, more popcorn, a blanket on, a blanket off, the seat reclined, the seat up and on and on. I stop over and over to take care of her. Then there are the endless questions, like, 'Why are we on this side? Why did you say hi to that girl? Can I pat the squirrel? Can we go back? In the end, my heart rate never goes up. I am pushing a stroller, and going for a stroll.

20 years ago I was living in the same neighborhood that we are now. I had quit smoking and gained weight. Early in the mornings, I would get on my new bike, and back into shape. It seems so curious to me that I now find myself in the same situation, in the same neighborhood. I still have that bike, many tune-ups and a baby seat later. I think about the places I would ride to around Natick way back when. I can't believe I will probably being doing a very similar route soon.

This morning Charlotte woke at 4:00am with a bloody nose. By 4:22 she was cleaned up and back asleep. I sat in the "Story Chair" in her room and looked at her sleeping, and at the clock, and back at her angelic face. Well, I thought, I am up and she is asleep. Time to start. I snuck downstairs to put my little dogs out. They weren't even waiting for me. Greta looked surprised and Chico was still all warm in the dog bed. They didn't even bark outside.

So this morning I set out on my first walk of this new routine. I have missed being outside so early. My father has always said that the morning is the best part of the day. I agree.

In The Moment

Since I was a kid, I have always loved Memorial Day weekend. It marks the beginning of my absolute favorite season; SUMMER! For me there is nothing better than a really hot day, the bright blue sky and brilliant green of the maple trees. Sometimes when we are deep in the winter, I will look at a picture taken in the summer, and marvel at how beautiful the landscape looks. I will then ponder; did we ever really go outside without a coat? It’s amazing to me how in the moment we can all be. Have you ever seen how pitiful a sick dog can look? It’s because the dog thinks that this is how he will always feel forever. I read a sobering statistic that teens often commit suicide because with their lack of life experience, they think that the way they feel today, will be the way they always feel. There have been so many excellent analogies written of how life changes, that I won’t try to write a better one, but I do see that often what matters so much today, fades tomorrow. My little girl looked up at me this morning and said, “Yesterday I was little, but today I am a big girl.” She’s right in a way, but being a kid is a moment to hold on to as long as you can.

She's Closer To Ready

Each morning at preschool, dropping off Charlotte can be hard on both of us. Some mornings she bounces into the classroom with a smile and a story for the teacher. Other mornings she sits in her car seat and earnestly tells me that her belly aches. I often dream of keeping her in the car and driving to the beach. When I was a kid, I thought grownups could do anything they wanted. Now as an adult I see how unfettered children really are.

With the nice weather floating in, the preschoolers run around in the play yard before class begins. Charlotte & I have adopted a new routine to make goodbye a little easier. I bring her into the school, hug & kiss her, and tell her I'll wait by the fence to wave when she comes out to the playground. Today I sat in my car and watched for the kids to burst out the door and pour onto the playground. Here they come and I see a flash of red hair...Charlotte races to the fence, and falls hard..I mean so hard that there is sand on her nose. She jumps up and hooks her fingers on the chain link, her eyes hard on me. I lean out of the car and say over and over, are you ok? are you ok? She says, yes, yes, yes Mom. I think about climbing that fence, but something in her look stops me. She rubs her knees and keeps looking at me. I tell her I love her and she keeps rubbing her knees. I want to go to her, but she says, "Ok Mom, you can go now."

I drive away with tears in my eyes, and wonder if it will always be this hard for me. Yes, it will always be this hard, but she is closer to ready.