A ROLE AT THIS FEAST

22 of 100

"It was neither the beginning nor the end of anything, but it was a hinge. A turning point for many of us. People, I think, came to realize they would die, and they began to take steps, to move toward the work they most wanted to do."

— Diane diPrima, Recollections of My Life as A Woman: The New York Years

Up early for me as I have an appointment to get the Honda Fit detailed. The floor has so much spilled dirt from hauling potting soil and such, I think I could farm there. I know I won't have time, energy, or focus to deep clean the car, so I am splurging. That said, I need to go get the yoga props, books, things not brought into the house from thrift store excursions and all out. Nina and Fox are sitting next to me in the window, hoping that I will shortly head for the kitchen and morning feedings.

This Charlie Haden song is wafting through my head. En La Orilla del Mundo. Charlie Haden-bass/Gonzalo Rubacalva-piano/Ignacio Berroa-drums/Joe Lovano-tenor sax/Federico Britos Ruiz-violin.

A bit later.

The detail guy was late. Now that I am a crabby old person, I want to take him to task in a review. Where is the kind person who thinks "Ah traffic and such..."? I probably won't be negative. We Crabby Old People think we can cure the world with our observations and criticisms. If only.

So to continue with the Janet story.

The whole vacation had a life and death aura around it. I was very sick before I left, wherein I wondered if I would be able to go at all. The week before I left, my nextdoor neighbor, Sally, lost her father after a long illness. I arrived on a Saturday. On Sunday morning, my friend Tad's mother died. On Thursday, Janet had to be taken to the emergency room. On Saturday, Betts told me that her father in Houston had taken a serious turn for the worse. My friend Michael's sister-in-law passed. Lili's mother went into the hospital. CIndy's dog died. Betts' father died. Another friend's only brother was fading fast while refusing to get dialysis.

Here's the life part. My nephew and niece-in-law had a new baby while I was there. Here she is being indoctrinated into the family cat worshipping cult.

On the same day/night that the baby was born, David was called into Janet's room wherein she could not stand. David called the EMTs. They refused to take her to the good hospital of which we are a part of their extended health care and took her to hell's waiting room. As I mentioned previously, I called Christina to help spring Janet from that horrible place. David and Christina took Janet out against medical advice to get her to the good hospital where she got adequate care. Hell's waiting room did not ask for ID from neither David nor Christina. 

So ... the last full week of my trip was a bit stressful while I tried to negotiate my time with getting to see the new baby, her older sister, and worrying about my mom as it took several days to diagnose her with c.diff, a possibly serious bacterial infection of the intestines. Janet was in the hospital for eight days.

My conversations with David led me to believe that Janet had taken a large turn for the worse overall, perhaps a much reduced ability to walk, a constant need for incontinence duty, wanting to sleep all the time (rather than being bored and nap ready at any time). David and I had some tough conversations that will need to be continued. It was all quite sobering.

When she was released from the hospital, I sent my dear family friend Patrick over to see Janet. He took this picture of her. Looking pretty good for 95 and after 8 days in the hospital. She was pretty listless and depressed when I first got home, but she is perking up and going back to Senior Lunch and dominoes.

Leave your tricks and schemes behind.

Go mad with Love.

Like a moth hungry for light,

dive into the blazing heart of the flame.

Be a stranger to yourself.

Wreck the house you call self.

Wake up in Love’s house.

Live with lovers. Be a lover.

Why lie in a grave,

fearing judgment, hands idle?

You have a role at this feast.

Rise up. Open your arms, a haven.

Grudges and spite weigh on the heart.

Let seven streams of water wash them away.

Make room for Love’s wine.

Be its cup.

Thoughts stray and drag you with them.

Heart, leap over your head.

Arrive before you know it.

You’re not a rook bound to two directions.

You’re not a pawn, a crooked queen,

a shortsighted king.

Be a mirror for your beled.

Reflect what you adore.

Once mineral, then animal.

Now blessed with a soul,

be Love.

Preacher, how long will you rant

door to door, roof to roof.

Give your jaw a rest. Be silence.

— Rumi, Gold, translated by Liza Gafori, New York Review of Books, New York, 2022