Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I were walking this morning when we ran into a neighbor, so we stood and chatted.  Her dog died soon after ours, but she has recently acquired a new dog, a six year old with a lively pettigree, who can jump really high, though he's only twenty pounds.  She then mentioned the Coronavirus, and said she didn't know what to think.  We answered that we didn't either.  It could become terrible, it was confusing, because some patients seemed to have no known contact, and now the first person here has died.  Trump dismissed the death as that of a very old person (actually in his fifties),   Trump is over two decades older.  Since the three of us are very old people, unlike Trump, we feel vulnerable.  Having information so sloppy, ill informed, and coming out of the mouths of people with no expertise is anxiety producing.  This country could use a dose of right speech, cautious speech, and only out of the mouths of trusted persons, but everything these days is upside down, and ignorant, angry and sometimes hateful speech is freely expressed.  We recoil from all information, out of mistrust.  This is a tragedy.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Last night I talked with my friend on the phone about what a rotten day she'd had, and today for me has been not so good either.  We drove over to pick up our grandson to take him to the park or zoo and lunch, but he was not having it.  He has a new baby brother and he was not leaving mommy and daddy and daddy's parents alone in the house without him.  After a period of time we gave up persuading him and settled in to play with him in his home.  That worked for a while, and I read "The Gruffalo" many times while he played with painted eggs and a basket I'd brought for him.  In the basket, then transfer to a ziplok bag, then back again, giggety gig.  Finally the little heir apparent agreed to a walk around the neighborhood to pick flowers.  He had a cloth bag, and we meticulously stopped at every flowering bush or plant, looking for flowers on the ground.  He knows his way around his neighborhood, and showed us a giant cactus with an amazing flower to huge it was bent over double from the weight.  I took a photo.  Then he slowly led us back to his house, and he wanted to stay right there, around his front steps.  No one was going to pull the wool over his eyes!  He rang the doorbell and we came inside to admire his new brother, while he screamed piercingly, until his other grandparents came in from the studio, at which point he ignored us.  We sat beside the baby on the floor, then left after a few moments.  Not a good encounter, but completely psychologically understandable.  I admit our feelings were hurt, but we had a nice lunch out and put it behind us.  This is a drama to which we are only the audience in the back row.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband and I took a walk this morning, trying to get back to where we were before the flu felled us.  It gave me a bit of a headache, but really, it's that the flu is still in my head, heavily, and feels like it's squeezing my brain.  I think we both got weak really fast, due to our ages, and it's going to be a long haul to feel as good as we did before.  This knowledge confronts me with the vulnerability of my age, and how my system hasn't the resilience it once had.  Compounded is all these darling grandsons of an age to pick up and carry lots of viruses.  I want to be involved, but how much can I?  I've not held the new baby, and only see the other two nearby once a week each, which seems to be working, but I also wonder about my husband.  His joy and delight is singing in two choruses, and yet he has a delicate throat that is easily irritated.  He probably should find another hobby, but what would compare to singing for him?  Acceptance of aging is difficult, and we fight it, wanting what we had.  Letting go of that hunger is the wholesome answer, but it isn't easy.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I went for a walk and a cappuchino with my friend this morning, and it felt great to stretch my legs and chat.  I still have a cough and runny nose, but no fever last night, so I believe I've turned a corner.  I'm going to be careful, but get out once in a while.  Since we're back in drought here, the sun is shining, the bulbs are blossoming, the trees are full of pink petals and it's paradise, though we know it's ominous.  The markets are down, because consumers have better things to focus on than gadgets; namely their health.  The markets don't care about compassion, or human lives, or fear (except their own greedy form).  Money, money, money.  We'll we've got the President for markets, because he doesn't care about anything or anyone else either.  He is tearing down this country like godzilla.  He smashes and the crowds cheer.  But this is a horror movie, and some of us know it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We watched one of the many versions I have of Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre last night.  The one with Michael Fassbinder and Mia Waishowka.  I love how the landscape is so much the main character in this film, and the sense the viewer gets of the isolation, harshness of the weather and land, and the  desolation of it all.  The two leads are extraordinary, very passionate and the chemistry is incendiary.  I hate this Rodchester more than the others, and yet, I feel for him more as well.  Jamie Bell, as Saint John, is deep and contradictory and vivid.  He has a bit of the bully Jane experienced with her cousin as a child and Lowood School when she's older.  Yet he is not the bully Rodchester is, or reckless and brimming with passion.  And passion is what Jane seeks, to match her own.  She has her own inner darkness, and Rodchester speaks to that side of her, which heretofore has never been allowed out after being sent to Lowood.  They are deeply flawed, deeply complicated beings who understand each other.  The whole book is messy, gothic and anger inducing, and this film catches that tone perhaps better than others.  It may not be a perfect novel, but it is MY favorite novel, even now, many decades after first reading it as a child.  Jane Eyre is determined, and her tenacity is what attracts me.  She respects herself.  Many years ago, in the British Museum, I gazed on the handwritten first page of the novel, in Bronte's own hand, and I felt attached to her with my heart.  I still do.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My ten month old grandson, just turned 10 mo yesterday, is determined to walk.  His parents sent a video of him pushing his crocodile clacking walker determinedly down the sidewalk, face serious, eyes forward, until a crack in the sidewalk caused his legs to get in plank position.  I'm sure he started all over again, big eyes on the path, going to tackle this body, get it in gear, and make it MOVE.  The intensity of young children is startling, because the scuttlebutt is they are easily distracted and have trouble focusing.  That is true sometimes, but more often I see the little bodies working the skill, working, working.  They are a lesson in try, try and try again until you can do it.  He's already rolled over, sat up, pulled himself up, held on to something and moved, and, the most important:  PUT HIS TOES IN HIS MOUTH.  I'd like to see any of us do that.  He's like a Cirque du Soleil baby.  I'd love to be that flexible again, but it ain't gonna happen.  But I admire it; I truly do.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Well, another day, another urgent care visit.  This time for my husband, who was up all night with his cough, despite taking a codeine based syrup.  I spent last evening talking to the on-call nurse practicioner, who couldn't figure out whether my fever was indication of pneumonia or not.  He told me to take Tylenol every four hours for twenty four hours, and see if that kept the fever away.  If not, go to urgent care for an Xray, to see if I need antibiotics.  Of course, he didn't realize urgent care has cut their hours, and is no longer open at all on Sundays.  I figure I'll call my doctor and make an appointment for next week.  The truth is, as the guy in front of the line at the pharmacy said to my husband:  What the heck is this cough?  I've never had anything like it!  Which is what my friends who've had it say.  It's a long, drawn out sucker.  I need to lower my expectations considerably.  I already talked to my daughter and admitted I was in no shape to help her next week or even be around her, and I'm not going to be holding my new grandson without a mask.  This the season to be sick, and I'm in the thick of it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We took our three year old grandson today for four hours, instead of the usual all day.  He got the cough from us but seems to weather it better.  He played at a park for several hours, then we took him to lunch, where he spilled water, messed around and didn't eat much.  I don't feel well enough to care.  I did tell him he was uncooperative, but he certainly wasn't distressed.  I don't think he feels well enough either.
I keep hearing from friends who've had this virus, and it lasts weeks and really knocks the stuffing out of you.  So it's looks like the end is not in sight.  I had less fever last night:  99.3, but taking tylenol upset my stomach and I almost threw up, so I guess tonight, no help for the burning up.  It's all in my head now, just stuffed with gunk and impulsively trying to cough it out or blow it out, or vacuum it out, if I had a teeny tiny vacuum.  I assume I'm slowly getting better, but impatience is not helping or making it go faster.  Ditto the homeopathic meds, or really anything.  My husband is good unless he talks or eats.  Then he has a coughing fit.  I'm trying to discourage him from speaking to me.  At all.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I had a fever of 100.2 last night so my tale of woe is not over yet.  And I gave my grandson the cough.  My older daughter wants me to help her next week, but I said I'd have to decide Saturday, because I can't expose her to this.  Last night my husband watched the debate while I read a mystery, but I kept dozing off, after taking tylenol, so basically I was in zombie mode.  This morning, I talked to my two best friends on the phone, listening to their encouragement and ranting a bit (well, maybe more than a bit), and I feel ready to tackle getting some lunch groceries and seeing my therapist this afternoon.  Exhausting, I know, but I'm in the throes of an epic battle between my white cells and those little green germs out to keep me down.  Warfare is exhausting. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Well, this bug is really tenacious.  I'm better, but don't sound good, and it seems like I'm still contagious.  I keep putting off seeing the baby, with advice from my doctor friend, and now my daughter has called for help next week, and I told her I probably can, but we should check in Saturday to see how I'm feeling.  I can't expose her as she's so immune compromised by the chemo. 
Last night we watched Contagion, which I've always but my husband is squeamish about.  If I ever ate pork before, I wouldn't after seeing that movie.  I don't eat pork because I like pigs and think they are intelligent and suffer.  I know, chickens and turkeys and fish and seafood can suffer as well, but I try to be super careful about how they are raised and no hormones etc.  At least my favorite protein is peanut butter, and I seldom imagine the peanuts suffering. 
Anyway, I'd like to reenter the world, but I guess it's going to take a few more days.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm getting better and my cough is not so much in my chest anymore, but I'm anxious to see the grandbaby and help out, and really, I'm not yet ready.  I was so busy last week that I guess I got depleted, and any effort, like going to the grocery store this morning, made me realize I am not myself yet.  So where does that leave me?  Well, basically appreciating that it is sunny out, that there are bulbs coming up in the yard, that the white rhrodadendron is in full bloom, that I can listen to music and read and nap.  Calling a friend is still iffy, as I'll cough, and that's not pleasant.  I could write, but my brain is in a fog.  There is gratitude that everyone is well and okay right now, and I am not NEEDED in any profound way.  They can get along just fine without me while I use up an entire city supply of tissues and wander aimlessly around my house.  As my dharma teacher says, Time to focus on letting go of concepts and beliefs, to get to the heart of who I am.  I mean besides being a sick person.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I wanted to watch Contagion last night but my husband thought it hit too close to home.  We settled on Snowpiercer, Bong Joon-ho 's crazy climate change/end of the world/ class struggle film.  Several of Parasite's stars are in it, as well as Chris Evans, Tilda Swinton, Jamie Bell, Octavia Spencer and John Hurt.  I mean, Tilda Swinton - what's not to like?!  It's fantastical, weird and gripping.  I loved it when I bought it years ago, but my husband didn't; he agreed last night due to being very sick.  I am also very sick, but unweakened in my opinions.  Parasite is the greater film, but this one is crazy and fun and has an amazing last scene.
Other than sitting like zombies in front of the TV, we slept ate and read.  I'm reading mysteries - not the ones I wanted to get, because when I went to my bookstore seven houses away, a video crew was filming an interview with the owner, and I could only get to the new releases, when I actually had to authors I was looking for.  Oh, well, next time.  Evidently, the directors thought the bookstore was representative of the craziness of my fair city, and maybe they're right.  It's a warren of books on the floor, gifts for those who want to be buy something useless for their friends, like miniature vampires or chucky dolls, blow up dragons, and ancient posters of cult books.  He has everything, the trick is to find it. 
Excuse me while I cough my way to my book.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Well, since I last wrote, we have a new grandson, pink and plump, and because we caught a virus from the next oldest grandson, we have not been able to hold him or be around him.  I'm just hoping his brother doesn't catch it from being with us for over three days and nights.  I sleep with him, and luckily, my coughing didn't wake him, but it woke me.  Both my husband and I were ragged by the time we handed him back over to his parents.  Evidently he too was exhausted, as he took a 3 hour nap.  After we deposited him we came home and slept all afternoon, then watched a horror movie, Lighthouse, which was strange and powerful.  I guess we'd had enough of Secret Life of Pets and Shrek.  I told my friend that the morning we took him home we went for a walk in our neighborhood, as we were too sick to do a park, and our grandson kept picking up sticks that had fallen from a windstorm and whacking bushes, flowers and trees.  He was the proverbial wild thing.  We'd seen his new baby brother at the hospital the night before, and I think it had sunk in that his life was altered.  We abandoned plans to take him to his favorite place for lunch and battened down the hatches.  He finally calmed down and sat in the rocking chair with me as I read Curious George, Frog and Toad and other favorites from before.  He needed to be a baby again for a few moments.  His last hurrah.  Or not.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Well, still no baby, I mean in the outside world.  The hospital sent my daughter home yesterday, but today she has an appointment for an induction at 4 pm.  I hope it's easier and faster than last time.  In the meantime, my husband and I are really sick with colds and terrible coughs.  I must have coughed a couple hundred times last night, then my grandson woke me up at 6:15 am.  We baked croissants and watched Molly from Denali.  He tried to stall going to preschool, but I finally got him to the car.  Once at school, he cried, but the teacher whisked him away quickly, and I left feeling guilty but knowing I needed to rest or I'm not going to make it to the weekend.  He peed in the bed, so tonight I'm insisting on a diaper.  He's doing great with the potty training, but nighttime is too long.  We were in a king sized bed together, but only on 1/10 of it.  To say he likes to cuddle is an understatement.  He's being a good sport, what with no baby arriving and no hoopla yet.  We watched "Secret Life of Pets" last night, which he loves, and he laughed and laughed.  I tolerate it pretty well, so I wasn't bored.  After we read Curious George books and "Are You My Mother?" then he settled in quickly.  Me, not so  much.  I hope the cough eases up.  It is a nasty one.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Both my husband and I are suffering from colds and coughs caught from our grandsons.  We've been lucky up until now, but not this time.  Since we expect our daughter to give birth this week, this presents a challenge.  Can we take care of a three year old and support our daughter and son-in-law while coughing, blowing our noses and feeling like limp noodles?  We'll see.  In the meantime, I made an emergency run to Pharmaca, where I bought my husband's heavy duty syrups, my homeopathic remedies, about six throat coat kind of teas, cough drops, and other paraphenalia that the sick believe might just fix you right up.  I'm now heavily armed.  I also got Progresso soups, and a Swedish pancake mix I'm in love with, to treat the grandson properly.  We've promised him a huge stuffed toy, but luckily the toy store is walking distance, so we should be able to manage that.  He's a chocolate croissant kind of guy, so I have the kind in the freezer that you let rise overnight and bake in the morning.  I'm as prepared as I'll ever be. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I shopped with my younger daughter and we had lunch.  Three days overdue and feeling it.  She goes in this afternoon and they might break her membrane, as she's four centimeters dilated.  Something is going to happen soon!  I admit to being nervous.  Now I understand how anxious my mother would get.  We know too much and have too many stories swirling around in our heads.  I've stocked up on snacks and goodies for my grandson, so he has a good time when he's with us.  We've promised him a big stuffed animal when the baby is born.  To celebrate, I've told him.  He's three, but you can't put much past him.  I have no idea how he will react.  I remember not being pleased at all with my baby brother.  He was a boring blob who was no fun at all.  Later, he was a lot of fun, but I wouldn't have believed it if my parents had suggested that at the time.  I wanted ALL the attention.  But later I would change my mind about that as well!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My daughter sent me some great news this morning:  because the chemo has halted the cancer the doctors want to try a trial and/or an experiment that shows promise, so they are working on extending her life.  I feel so hopeful.  Of course, I was always praying for a treatment, but now its on the horizon.  I'm thrilled.  She is such a fighter, this young woman, and she is fighting to keep with her daughter as well.  Her book is getting great publicity, her friends and family are giving strong support, her spirits are up, up, up.  I feel so blessed that all these people's prayers and efforts have had a lovely effect on all of us.  We aren't in this alone, and that feels so comforting.  Thanks to all on this journey with us.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We just dropped our daughter-in-law and grandson off at the airport to join our son in visiting our older daughter.  My husband circled while I went in with them and helped them check in.  My daughter-in-law had a bag the size of Delaware, heavy beyond belief, a stroller, a carseat, little bags, a backpack, and well, the baby, at around 28 pounds.  I pushed the stroller with my grandson and dragged the big bag on wheels.  First that bag was overweight and the agent wanted to charge $70 over it.  Then the carseat had to be moved to the upright position to fit in the plastic bag.  Then he suggested she check the stroller at the gate.  She has PSA Precheck, but it didn't show up on her ticket, so that took ten minutes.  Then the carseat had to be wrapped.  at this point he finally relented and waved the $70.  After 20 minutes checking in we were off towards security, with me pushing the stroller and she juggling everything else.  I hugged them at the line and hurried out, to have my husband grumble about waiting for me so long.  Then he preceded to complain the rest of the way back, about various things, none of them interesting or worth hearing, and now I am out in my studio to have a respite from him.  What a grump!  Yesterday my daughter was grumpy, but she has a reason.  She's uncomfortable with a big baby load, and today's her due date and no labor.  She's tired and miserable and ready to roll.  My husband, well, he has no excuse.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I took a walk with a friend this morning, and we had our usual cappuchinos and chatted, then hunted in the market for harissa with rose petals for a dinner she's making tomorrow night.  We passed by a used kids' store and in the window was this alligator clacker walker that my daughter had been wanting to get for her nephew, the nine month old, so I walked in and bought it like new at half price.  I was mighty pleased, even though I had to carry it the rest of the way home.  Serendipity!  I love it!
Yesterday I gave my three year old grandson some little scarves I'd knitted, as he had admired mine.  My daughter said he told her to open the window on the way home in the car, so he could test their warmth, and then she sent me a photo of him on the sofa wearing a blue scarf and with the gray and white one in his lap.  I even gave him a tiny yellow one for his stuffed kitty, that goes with him everywhere.  He's my biggest fan, when it comes to knitting!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I went to the dentist bright and early this morning, at 7:30 am.  Get it over with is my motto.  Last night our younger daughter had some contractions, so I didn't sleep as soundly, waiting for a call to get our grandson, but she said this morning it all just petered out.  The baby is coming soon, though, that's clear.  It's crisp and cold here, and I actually wore my parka to the dentist.  Normally I keep all my gear from living in Colorado up at the cabin, but luckily, I have a few things here, mainly for trips away.  My husband and I are taking our pregnant daughter to lunch and a movie, which hopefully will be relaxing for her.  We're seeing "Just Mercy", which I've wanted to see because I loved the book.  Having Jamie Foxx star is a plus, as I'm quite an admirer of his acting.  I'm avoiding all mention of the State of the Union address, or at least as much as I can get away with.  Nancy Pelosi, you go girl!  Tear it up!

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Our younger daughter is due with her baby in five days.  I'm getting pretty excited.  She is SO ready to have this baby.  He's big and she is uncomfortable.  This afternoon she sees the doctor again and maybe she's dilated and effaced a bit.  Her three year old son is not so sure about these coming changes, and still wants a sister, not a brother.  He's in the middle of two boy cousins, and it can be challenging.  I can remember  being less than impressed with my baby brother, especially as he peed all over me when he got home.  Then, let's face it, there is nothing to do with them for months:  you can't pick them up and hold them, they don't do anything interesting, and when you need mommy they're hogging the whole show.  No, I remember being disgusted.  It was not like having my own dolly. 
But my brother was a fellow companion through our childhoods and he loved me, even though we were unlike in pretty much every way except giggling and loving dogs.  He's been gone now for almost seven years, and I miss my witness to my parents and the past. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband is going to watch the superbowl, so I was going shopping, since I really don't care about football.  I keep an eye on my alma mater's college team, but that's it.  I discovered my destination, a clothing store I love, is not open, so I'll go to a fabric store I like.  I need mint green fabric for the back of a baby quilt, and once I get in there, I'll oogle the prints and buttons and other stuff.  I love the idea of sewing, even though I'm not really skilled.  Both my parents were in the garment industry, so that world is so comfortable and now nostalgic for me.  My mother could sew anything, and I still swoon at her smocking, embroidery and elegant linings.  She made me a red robe in heavy cotton with smocking on the yoke, and really, I've never seen anything as nice since.  She knitted sweaters and made skirts to match, and with her own clothes, you could never tell if she bought it at a high end boutique or made it.  I'm too impatient and sloppy to be really good, but I'm an admirer of needlework of any kind, and have a small collection of fabrics from around the world.  If a man does this kind of work, he's labeled a design genius, but millions of women create beauty every day for their families, and for a pittance in factories and sweat shops.  My solidarity with them is boundless.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

The MRI results were good news:  no new growth of cancer.  It gives us hope that she will have more time, and perhaps new treatments will surface, and she will not die, at least not anytime soon.  We are all so relieved. 
Tonight we are celebrating our older son's and his wife's birthdays, getting together with the family here at an Indian restaurant and having cake.  It will be chaotic, with three little fellows, but our reservation is for 5:30, so we have less chance of meltdowns.
This morning my husband and I took a walk, and didn't even need jackets.  It's sunny and in the sixties.  We tentatively discussed a trip this summer, and though we know planning is not wise and we must remain fluid, thinking about getting away, and not for a health crisis, felt really good.  We need to dream a bit, and hope, and breathe in the image of our daughter healing and surviving.  It's the only way to live.