Fleeting

It goes by too quick. Life does.

I look into the face of my dear friend. In the hospital. (Apparently, it’s a recurring thing lately – these hospital visits.) He has aged. I have to admit when I look in the mirror – I have too. Dammit. And dammit that it took the alarm of the ICU to get me off my butt and by his side.

We share news of kids and grandkids (his) and great-grandkids (his again – yes I’m envious). Nearly four decades of communal history are in the room with us… like it all happened yesterday: crazy dangerous fun, laughter, pain, loss.

He says he doesn’t want to grow old. This scares me. So I ask him, “But if your quality of life is good, old is good, right?” I can’t bear losing him.

But I don’t think I’ll lose him any time soon. He’s a tough bird, “older than dirt” according to his estimations.

He’s side-stepped doctor recommendations for a good long while now, hence ICU and the once-again stay in the hospital. This time they’ll be keeping him for a while – in the pulmonary rehabilitation wing. The fun of youth catches up.

(Seriously!? Are we allotted just some quota of over-the-top living!?! I suppose there’s no rhyme or reason to the life and death cycle TIMING thing but it’s REALLY hard to not contemplate and wonder if there is some allowance-of-fun-score-keeping device that pulls the plug on us through death or discomfort.) Sigh… Enough ranting.

CW
I wish you comfort, my friend.
And LOTS of old age that we can share together.

I love you, Claud Wayne.

– debi

Today

TODAY

*

Rain gone

Steam floats, surrounds with dawn,

burns off…

Today!

Clear blue frames greens

sharp tipped, round, sap – drip, drip,

greens lime & iridescent,

greens deep, dark, black…

Rotate!

Shadows sharp as a briar’s sting

No haze,

no smudge of summer

too soon here…

Gather!

Laughter of friends, family

Cocoon of love, harmony

Thank you, Life

My life

Our life

*

– debi

green

Healing Mistakes

I moved out of Texas — a one-and-only time — October 10th of 2002.

I was back home by October, 2003 racking up 10s of thousands of Delta miles in the interim. (Also, thousands of rental car miles between Salt Lake City and Ashton, Idaho – one of the prettiest stretches of highway that exists.)

WIKIPEDIA - Wasatch Range, Salt Lake City, Utah... Click on the pic for full panorama.
WIKIPEDIA - Wasatch Range, Salt Lake City, Utah... Click on the pic for full panorama.

I missed my kids, my friends, my home, Texas… but I had been hell-bent to run from bone-deep grief. So determined, that I married a potato farmer and made that move to the farthest eastern portion of the Snake River Plain butted up against the Grand Tetons.

*

Grand Tetons - seen from the Snake River Plain
Grand Tetons - seen from the Snake River Plain

Jeff and I had a chemistry that was palpable. If that hadn’t been the case, I would have been home long before those twelve short months.

That year was a lifesaving gift. I made forever-friends and gathered family that I still consider family. My only regret is that I disrupted the lives of two sweet girls, Allison and Kelsey – for that I will always be sorry.

Why do I delve into this?…

This morning, I headed out to clean my garage… and my hands, of their own volition — free from any thought processes, started unpacking boxes from the Idaho move back to Texas. These boxes had been stacked in my garage all this time; I’d managed to shove their existence to the very back of my brain for 8-1/2 years.

So why unpack them today?

My guess is because my life will be entering a new adventure in the next year or so. I’m now engaged to one of the best men who ever lived. He loves me  – sometimes I’m awestruck by how much he loves me. He loves me so much that I am for the first time in my life free to be ALL of me. And since some of this “ALL of me” is rather raw, I’m amazed he tolerates me at times.

My first husband, Gary, died almost twelve years ago. Jeff died more than three years ago. I still grieve for Jeff, and I will never finish grieving for Gary and the more than 26 years of full-to-bursting life we had together.

I’ve made mistakes on my long path of healing, but each mistake has taught me more about life, more about me. I’ll keep on making mistakes and keep on learning. Life never stops giving in that manner unless we quit receiving — this I believe with all my heart.

*

Well, the garage is cleaner than it’s been in years. Trash and recycle bins are brimming for Monday’s pickup. Boxes are stacked ready to go to storage. My hands are blistered, and this beer tastes great.

There remains one banker’s box from Idaho to explore. Maybe in another 8-1/2 years…

– debi