Ten.Two Hundred & Forty-Eight
1. I wake up early enough to spend a little time with him before his über comes. We talk about the funny things they said while we were gone.
2. Electric pink sky and thick gray clouds. There will be no sun today. I write and then try to meditate before they come downstairs.
3. Long hugs of welcoming. Then straight to making their lunches. It’s almost as if I’d never been gone. I am both grateful and sad about their independence. Easy but not easy. Life is always about cradling the opposites.
4. I pour myself another cup and take it up to bed as I wait to hear when she’ll be released. I’m still so tired. I’ve been tired for months.
5. “We equate choice with freedom but they are not the same.” - Wayne Muller, Sabbath
6. I start to walk to the right of the ER lobby but am overcome by the smell of vomit and so make my way over to the far, far left side and look down the long corridor for my mom. Finally she is there, walking on her own, no wheelchair, smile on her face.
7. The wind is whipping and cold air is making its way down the neck of my coat and I can feel everything.
8. Changes to be made.
9. The road seems extra dark. Maybe it’s because of the wetness. But it’s so dark that I’m not even sure if my headlights are on. Seeing but not really seeing. Where are the edges of the road? I still don’t know where I’m going.
10. It’s just that right now it feels like we’re grasping.