July 27, 2020 – Monday (and yes, Covid is worse than ever)
I like to think of myself as a sun baby … but truth be told – I’m a shade baby. Yep – for all my griping about the weather here … once the sun comes out and the temp gets above 70º, I find myself a nice, comfy spot in the shade.
I love being outside – I just can’t tolerate the sun. How was I ever a lifeguard?
Today, per Alexa, it’s 77º .. our warmest day this year (I’m pretty sure) … we might even hit 80º! Woo-hoo! Summer has arrived! Well, for today. It won’t stay this warm – never does (we’ve never hit 90º on this island – ever). Today might be one of a handful of 80º days all year; I’ll take it. But, if it stays warm for any length of time it’ll have all of my neighbors so disgruntled I won’t hear the end of it! They know I like Summer to be warmer than 68º. They’re having a tough time taking off their polar fleece vests.
Anyway – it’s to be in the 70s all week and I’m going to spend as much time as I can outside. This is MY time. I’m on the deck with a tray table and there is a soft breeze and it’s so quiet the only thing I hear is the soft breathing of Sadie, the golden, who is asleep at my feet. I’ve hosed her down and have a fan on inside for her – she, like my neighbors, thinks this is too HOT!
I hate to admit it but I’m wearing a boob-tube … a tube-top. I’ve had this thing for eons and it’s what I wear when I sit for my 15 minutes of sun when it’s upper 70s here on the island. No one can see me … except for the birds and the hummers that are feeding. It’s not the best look, but they do not judge. And, I get a bit of sun and no tan lines!
Today I made my dad lunch. Well, symbolically speaking as he’s been gone now almost 2 years. Time flies. Yesterday was Tim’s 14th anniversary. How can that be? We met over 40 years ago – how can THAT be?! My brother-in-law has passed and it’s already been 10 days. Time. So elusive. So defining.
Before I moved to the island, I lived in the Chicago area for 2 years. Do I miss it? No. But there are aspects of it that I miss: I loved the balmy summer nights and the fireflies (but not the 3 cold showers a day to stay sane with limited a/c) … I loved the Italian beef sandwiches from anywhere … I loved the kids I tutored (but they are all grown) … I loved going into any grocery store – large or small – and having one full wall dedicated to sausages and a deli counter. I never bought much – but I’d go and look – gawk – as it was like a sausage museum. I miss the International grocery stores – they had everything; half of which I didn’t recognize and had no idea how to use. I miss the oj and chicken salad at Marianos. (I seem to have spent a LOT of time in grocery stores during those years!) I miss the trees and the autumns and the pretty streets lined with pretty homes and pretty yards.
I also loved my little house. It was as perfectly perfect as it could get. Every inch was functional and it fit everything I had, well … perfectly. I was at the edge of an oak forest so my upstairs office was shaded and was like being in a windowed tree house. I loved it. I had a darling yard but no privacy as it backed to my neighbor’s driveway. The kids would wave to me from their drive (while playing basketball) while I was sitting on my couch! Walking around other than fully dressed was never an option! I could have put up a fence (as the next owner did) – but that would have meant the kids would have had to go around the house to get a bball that had gone over into my yard – instead of just hopping the 3 foot chain link. I couldn’t bear to make them do that. So, I just made sure I was clothed and loved having them wave to me and the dogs while we were watching tv!
My parents were there and that was the reason I went back to the Peyton Place-esque town of Park Ridge, IL for those years. They’d both been doing the revolving door thing at the local hospital … my dad one month, my mom the next, etc. So, as I really needed to jump-start my life and get out of the big, family home in CO, I went that way feeling they needed me.
They didn’t. I got there just as things were getting better on the health-front for them and my “help” with anything was seen as interference and a thwart to their independence. So, I did what I could … but that really wasn’t much. My dad was like the smart pig in the Three Little Pigs story (you know – the practical one who made his home of bricks – not straw or twigs). I’d say I’d help him trim the tree and be over at 9am. I’d arrive and he’d be coming down the ladder from said tree – having already done the pruning. I got wise to his ways … but he always seemed to beat me to the punch. I finally gave up – telling him that mom could call 911 when he fell from the roof. I was only half joking. We butted heads a lot. As in a LOT. They were in their early 80s and didn’t want to be reminded that their bodies were aging. I didn’t want to find one of them dead at the bottom of the stairs or ladder. If it was a contest, they won.
At that time my dad was still very active – riding his bike/walking long distances. And, as we were so close, there were times he’d walk my way (I lived only 1/2 mile away – to the west) and he’d surprise me with a little visit. I loved those spontaneous times. And sometimes I made him lunch. He always resisted … saying he was “saving himself” for dinner. But, I’d chat with him as I made “me” a sandwich … always something grilled … ham and some cheese … and some sort of olive or artichoke tapenade or aioli on it with a side of kettle chips, fruit and sweet pickles. I’d make a fuss that I wasn’t that hungry and make him up a plate with half the sandwich and the rest … and we’d have lunch. He’d say that I should save it and I’d say it’d get mushy and so he’d acquiesce. It was nice. Today “we” had that lunch … grilled ham with artichoke/jalapeno schmear on dark rye … kettle chips and pickles. I wished he could have been here with me. I gave a little salute to the sky as I ate my half sandwich.
Last night I did my cliff walk … I signed up for a 5K to support my sweet hippo friend at the Cincinnati Zoo – Fiona. She was the premie baby who at birth, weighted only 12 lbs! I have been following her progress through their zoo-cam. It’s great! To get in my mileage, I walked the cliff and then the ‘hood and then another neighborhood and through the woods … getting home just before dark. (It’s getting darker so much earlier!) … my animal total was 13 deer, 3 cows, 4 ducks, several dogs, 1 sweet cat and as I rounded the corner home, an eagle flew over me! I didn’t count the bunnies – wish I had as there were millions out last night! I walked part of the way while talking with my friend in Chicago … best friend in high school … still buds. We’ve seen a lot of life. She called to see how I was doing – 14 years later. And my answer, as is hers (she lost a son) is always the same … it is what it is.
After 14 years my heart no longer aches – but I fear it is numb instead. There are times when I look at his picture and wonder if he really happened. Our life together seems so very long ago – like I watched it as some Hallmark movie or someone told me about him and not that he was mine for 27 years. It’s all weird. And it’s weird to think that he’s been gone for over half the time we were together. I say I am OK with all of this loss … but I look at his picture or remember something and there it is, that deep, resounding echo through my body and then I’m flooded with tears. Guess I’m not as numb as I think.
Covid is still raging and getting worse/not better. We need a do-over and we need it NOW. We need a federal mandate to mask up and stay home for 2, 4, 6 weeks so we can get this under control. Only then can we start to reopen … like the other countries have done. Like ALL of the other countries who have successfully quelled this virus have done. And yet – I know in my heart it won’t happen here because our leadership verges on insanity and the American people – at large – are too selfish and ignorant and continue to think that mask-wearing is political (or patriotic) and an assault on their personal rights. I’ve been doing “the right thing” since mid February and I’m getting really tired of doing it when so many others are not. This virus will continue on and on and on … and take how many more thousands with it – needlessly – because we are unwilling to stay home and mask up? Ridiculous. It’s insane and I’m tired of it. And as much as I, too, want this to “magically disappear”, I know it won’t without our intervention. Mask up people, mask up!
Sadie is back for the week – the world’s sweetest (and biggest) golden. She’s 94 lbs … but looks more like 110! I tell her she just has big bones. (Like me!) I am so tickled to have her back with me. I so miss having my own dogs. Have been looking at pug babies and Frenchies … but don’t really have an extra $3500 for a puppy! That is insane! So, I keep trawling the rescue sites … hoping, hoping. One day my pup will come. It’ll happen.
And speaking of dogs … here’s a little something I wrote a while back … meaning circa 2001 about our sweet, sweet Sera. Some things never change.
I look at the clock – what time is it? Time is fleeting – a day flies by, a month, a year – I want more time.
The Rolling Stones sang about time “being on their (my) side”. I say, in my case, that doesn’t pertain. Time goes by too fast. It has always been elusive for me – always slipping away – always going by much too quickly. A day of 30 hours still wouldn’t be enough. Whomever said that time stood still for them … I’d like to meet them and find out their secret.
It’s 2am … once again, I find myself in the kitchen, eating cookies and thinking of my darling, black cocker spaniel, Sera. It’s been two weeks since I took her to our vet and had her put down. She was over 15 … times flies. Where did those years go? She wasn’t just an animal – a pet – she was part of our family. She was by my side for over one-third of my life. A lot of time. I have friends and some family that think … “it’s no big deal” … others know how I feel.
She was a pup when Tim brought her home … a mere 9 weeks old … a beautiful black-velvet bundle of love. Ted was just a baby when she arrived … he is now driving. Time … where did you go?
A huge hole has opened in my heart and I feel its emptiness echo through my soul.
How and why is it so difficult to lose a beloved pet? And yet, I know the answer before I even ask the question. She was my confidant, my shadow, my friend. She spoke volumes with her chocolate brown eyes and little wiggly stump tail. Her love for me and my family was without question. She was the house mother of all the other household pets. And her absence makes my heart ache.
I’m not good with death anyway. I never have been. I just don’t like it! I don’t think it’s often fairly timed … and as far as I’m concerned, it’s much too final. In my life (thus far) I have lost four grandparents, a handful of friends, a few pets, an unborn son; none of them have been easy. Yet, with time – their loss does get easier but my love and missing them is never diminished.
The saying “time heals all wounds” runs through my head. “Give it time” I hear people say. Time. I want more time.
I suppose as we grow older we learn from life’s lessons which prepare us for the next passing. When it comes to losing a loved one–I’m a very slow learner. I still hurt. I still want the ending to be different than it is.
The cookies don’t help–much–but the tears ease my sorrow and clear my head. I sigh and think before I go back to bed that she was a good dog; a treasured, loving companion and a sweet creature. She lived a long and very healthy and happy life in a warm home with a family that adored her. What more could a pet want? What more could I want for her?
More time.
Wishing you more time with all those you love. Tell them that you love them and go make today a good day.