DROPPED LIKE A GLASS

Relaxation does not necessarily lead to writing. Sinking into silence and long, deep sleeps is a delicious end in itself with little desire or need to document. But then, again, now there is a little time for reflection.

I wrote this on the airplane: 

Home.

So somewhere over the middle of America, listening to Jurassic World because there is no picture for some reason. I must confess I have quite a soft spot for Chris Pratt. I was exhausted nearly to weeping when I got on the plane, but I am trying to stay awake so that I get onto East Coast time much more quickly. Although I don’t much like all the explosions and violence, I can hear the most upset baby I have ever seen on a ‘plane even through all of this ruckus. The VFX look awful on this low rez screen, but I am enjoying this. There are some good actors in this besides Chris Pratt, although I don’t really get Bryce Dallas Howard.

I went into some kind of coma yesterday, stress, anxiety, fear? The HGTV show Fixer-Upper sucked me in for about three hours and then I didn’t want to do much of anything. So, as per usual, I did not get done everything I had hoped, but some. Leaving my mom and Cooder was very difficult, not really knowing how (or if) either one would be when I return.

I took Cooder to the vet last week, maybe I said in my last post. I am very happy with my new vet out here … and isn’t it interesting that most of my favorite vets have been women? … Cooder has an infected tooth that should come out, but at her advanced age and diminishing kidney function, she might not survive the surgery. She’s on antibiotics and some pain medication. Her liveliness and appetite have improved, but she is still on beyond finicky it is difficult to get her fed. She’s mostly skin and bones. The vet thinks has six more months or so in her. I am a bit sad to think I am missing these weeks with her.

And my mom is another story. Last night, driving down Painter Boulevard in Whitter she spoke of how sad she was to think she wouldn’t be here much longer. The medications for depression and memory retention don't seem to be working. She's not feeling great. I called her doctor before I left to see about adjusting her medications, but I didn't get a call back, so that will be something else I manage from the field.

So, to update you from there, Ma saw a neurologist on Monday who attributes her memory loss to imbalance of sodium, potassium, cholesterol, and blood pressure. That's something, right? My nurse brother will be in town on Monday, so they will go to her gerontologist together. 

I've been enjoying solitude at J&J's sweet place in Woodstock. Lili & Stuart's is just about a 10 or 15 minute drive away.

MY EYES

An hour is not a house,
a life is not a house,
you do not go through them as if
they were doors to another.

Yet an hour can have shape and proportion,
four walls, a ceiling.
An hour can be dropped like a glass.

Some want quiet as others want bread.
Some want sleep.

My eyes went
to the window, as a cat or dog left alone does.

—  Jane Hirschfield, The Beauty