Sunday, September 18, 2005

Sunday, September 18, 2005

Sunday, September 18, 2005

I’m drinking coffee and watching the sun come up. I’ve been on the phone this morning with Tom, PL, Mary and Margaret, updating schedules and working out meeting times and places for all the various travelers. Suzanne called and asked for eggs, so I’ll pick some up on my way out.

Tim slept through the night and is comfortable this morning. Last night he was in a lot of pain, so I dosed him up good, and we’ll keep doing that as necessary.

The days run together now, mural-like, one into the next. Pat dropped easily in to the picture and is now part of the harmony, which makes me realize how this will all play out over the next few days as each person arrives. The places are already there for them. We don’t need to make room for anyone, they claimed that spot for themselves years ago, blood family, or love family, it makes no difference. Their place is set, and held, and each will slip into it and we will keep moving forward.

I noticed that yesterday, when we had a houseful. Pat was working on creating the corner table for the guest room, and I was ripping and cutting and nailing in the corner trim. Carol and Jill arrived and began cleaning the upstairs of Tim and Sue’s house. Jim Neumayer and Ken Irons dropped in, went away briefly and returned with riding lawnmowers.

And for a few hours we all worked side by side on our projects, the smells of fresh sawdust and new cut grass and the sounds of projects filling the air. Jill’s face would appear at a window and we would wave wildly at each other and then laugh.

Tim wanted to watch The Salton Sea, so we stopped and ate and watched for awhile and then John and Jenny stopped by and Tim gave them the skinny on what was going on.

“I’m just glad the pain turned out to be something real so everyone would stop telling me I was faking it,” he said. “Suzanne told me I was just being manipulative to get more pain medication, and Danny kept making me do neck exercises while my spine was collapsing.”

This is actually all true, but it was still funny as hell and we all laughed our asses off.

Doug, Pat, Suzanne and I drove to town and played a round of golf. I shot my usual horrible game, but it was so fantastic just to stroll the course and talk, and occasionally bludgeon the ball. As the sun set all salmon and almond in the west and the day grew cool, I was on the 8th hole and putting for par, when Pat threw the flag down on top of my ball. And we laughed more.

And then the day was over, and we ate spaghetti and meat balls that Mom made and Joann Neumayers pineapple upside down cake and fresh baked ginger snaps that Virginia Cowley dropped off and my stomach hurt.
And how amazing it all was to eat and laugh and build, and Tim was smiling from ear to ear.

Its later now and another day is ending. We finished the room and cleaned and put the bed in, and cleaned the shop and Pat and I went for a ride through the woods on the 4-wheelers, and I flew, up and over this logging road for what seemed like miles with cool mountain air whipping my face and I felt like laughing again.

The first big batch of family arrives later this evening and Mom is grilling steaks. Matt and Tom Drake just pulled in. Tim was in a lot of pain last night so we medicated him heavily and he’s been pretty much out of it most of the day. Mom said to me “He’s fading fast!” and I laughed and said “No, its just extra ativan!”

I am covered in sawdust and gravel dust and I feel good and peaceful and ready.

Its funny how desperately everyone is trying to be doing. To be existing functionally instead of just being. We must have projects and we must have lists and we must have much much to do. The folks who are arriving have agendas and they want to be kept busy and I just keep saying, be present. Sit and talk to Tim and when he is asleep or tired, sit and look at the mountains. We will eat when we are hungry. We will sleep when we are tired. It matters so very very little right now whether anything actually gets done. All that matters today is that you don’t get to the end of it and wish you had done something differently.

It’s been a beautiful beautiful day and I have loved every passing second of it. Even the part where Suzanne chased me across the yard with a stink bug.

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