Sunday, June 27, 2021
Kenny, my angelic neighbor, sauntered over last night and asked if I had any use for an AC. Whatttttt?????
He borrowed my wheel barrow and came back with an AC and tools for installing it in my bedroom window. Most of my house is 90-ish and my bedroom is a delicious 74.
I did spend most of the day in the lake. As I will be spending tomorrow as well.
Tuesday I go to LA, WHERE IT IS COOLER THAN HERE.
What the actual fuck.
BTW the dog and cat have melted. Completely. Poor animals covered with fur/hair.
Friday, June 25, 2021
Face timed with Eden. Face timed-what have we come to, is that a word?
She's ok, trussed up but says she fed herself today with one hand/arm. And she told a very funny story about the Rumanian doctor who removed the staples in her head; heavy accent, bright costume jewelry, painted nails, about 60-ish, tut-tutting the staple job, blamed it on the young intern and called Eden honey, as in 'oh honey'. Reminded me of her Hungarian grandmother. As much as my former Hungarian in-laws used to anger me, I admired them. They were survivors, made it to the US as refugees and rebuilt their lives in upstate New York. Their two children went to Harvard and Columbia. Steve, my ex, became a doctor (I know, a stereotype-my son the doctor). But they left Budapest with nothing, just the shirts on their backs. Steve's dad once showed me the backpack Margaret, his wife, made for 6 year old Steve to wear as they escaped the communists that had overtaken their city.
I was an asshole back then. I was young with two small children. I wasn't Jewish and I had daughters, not sons. (yes, I heard that the day I gave birth to Eden) Still, with hindsight, they suffered incredible losses and they survived, they survived. As so many do in this world. They weren't perfect but they loved their grand daughters. And Eden has honored them by her Hungarian cookbook. May it be published!
In other news, we're experiencing a heat wave. The city is freaking out. It's amazing. Seattlites. LOVE to discuss the weather because it's so...um nothing here mostly. Rain? OMG. a bit of snow-apocalypse now. I will admit, it's mighty hot here and we have ourselves to thank for the heating of the planet but we'll get through this bit. Kenny came over with two fans under his arms to offer me as he was getting AC. And I have a standing invite if it gets too much in my house, even the dog is invited.
My solution: go swimming and wear my wet suit until it dries out, then go swimming again etc. Not me wet suit as in neoprene, just my regular polyester suit. Felix swims too and retains wet hair. Sheesh.
I will admit. Felix is pretty limp.
Well dears. I must water the garden as the sun goes down. Tomorrow an early swim and then a quiet day. And a visit to a new baby :-). I ma have to go jump in the lake one more time...
Tuesday, June 22, 2021
Just got the word. Surgery tomorrow at 7 AM. And I'm not going back until next week. I let go of being there right away. It'll be ok, she'll be ok. My midwife brain says go now but I can't. Sweet baby Jeezus.
Let all the benevolent beings protect and watch over her. My beautiful girl.
Back from LA and waiting for Eden's surgery to be scheduled. She's been to a few appointments and she needs one more x-ray before final approval. Sheesh.
I cooked and cleaned and watched Netflix with my girl. She showered a few times and I combed out her tangled hair and braided it. What a tender thing to do, comb long wet hair. I haven't combed her hair since she was a child.
Her cousin has been very helpful and present. Today I'll buy another ticket to return, probably next Monday or Tuesday. The less said about air travel right now, the better. Fortunately LA has a few small airports so I don't have to fly into LAX, a huge behemoth.
The pull to be with her is so strong. Watching her be in pain is so hard. My dear friend and dharma teacher Mary visited me and we sat on Eden's dinky deck and laughed and chatted, was a relief to step outside the caretaker role for a minute. I am of course thinking of all the caregivers who tend to a loved one, day after day. Heart wringing. Persistent.
This morning I'm meeting Clark for a lake swim, the first of the year. I better get going.
Love to you all.
Wednesday, June 16, 2021
Last night I got a call that no parent wants to get. Eden, my younger daughter, was in the ER after an incident with her poorly controlled rescue dog. She'd already gotten a bloody nose from being pulled off balance by her dog who lunges at other dogs, people, etc. This time she was knocked down, sustained a concussion and a broken collar bone and a laceration on the back of her head. She lost consciousness briefly. Her friend was calling me to let me know where she was and to tell me that they are recommending surgery because the broken bone could potentially puncture her lung.
It was the middle of the night. The first flight I could get was this afternoon so I'm anxiously waiting to leave the house, cleaning the kitchen, cleaning out the litter box, scrubbing the toilet...you know, to stay busy. Thank goodness for credit cards. I called family to let them know. Her dad and my brother are stepping up to help her financially because she's self employed and who knows when she'll be able to work again. Thank goodness for them. Nancy, who just house sat for me, responded to my midnight text with -'sure, no problem, I'll stay and care for house and dog and cat'. Thank goodness for her friendship. She has two daughters too. She knows.
I'm trying not to cry but I just start up. I hate that I'm so far away. I'm grateful that we can fly again and I'll be there tonight. Our babies, we can't keep them safe, can we? Felix knows something is going on. He's very quiet and staring at me.
I return on Sunday. My objective is to give the effing dog back to the shelter, get my girl set with visits and friends and food and trips to the doc, you know, all the things.
We do anything for them, don't we?
I don't even know what I packed. LA is very hot. I don't care. I just want to get there. To hold her and tell her it's gonna be ok.
In the ambulance I held you in my arms
you were small and limp
wearing a nightgown with light blue flowers
I thought you might die
sirens pitched through country roads
I was making deals
please take me
I can go in her place
I knew then I would do anything
mothers do this
they give all the bread to the children
so the children might live
they stand in front of soldiers with guns
they swim across with the baby on their back
everywhere, mothers are holding out their arms
walking forward into the burning fields
saying, take me so she might live