Back, sort of

Naples was beautiful. Low humidity, breezy, calm
ocean. Spent most days on the beach. My youngest
niece and I were out in the water, swimming and looking
for shells and such, and I said, "For whatever we lose,
like a you or a me, it's always ourselves, we find in the sea."

And then we talked about cummings and poetry, and we stuck
our toes into the sand, poking at what we thought was a shell
only to find out it was a crab. A patient one I might add.

"May came home with a smooth round stone
As small as a world and as large as alone," I told my other
niece as we walked the beach on a different day. And then
we talked about cummings and poetry and life and babies
and oceans and rivers and fathers and aunts and life
and life and life...

*

After the funeral, actually before the funeral, Lauren asked
if I wanted to go to Naples. She already had the time off
and was supposed to be touring for 2 weeks but was not up
to that. So I said, yes, I can go. Let's go.

And go we did. We stayed with my sister. Yesterday, as we
were getting ready to leave, my sister went up into the attic
to go through some art pieces she had to see if there were any
I wanted. She had already given me one--Monkeys in Vietnam--
can't explain it--don't think that art needs explanation per se--
but think I'll post a photo here.

She called me up into the attic to look at some paintings
and then in just one or two seconds, everything went fuzzy.
I heard a popping sound. I saw her go from standing height
to just upper chest, shoulders and head. The gravity
didn't sink in until she said, Pull me out of here!

I ran down the attic stairs (don't know why), saw her
feet dangling through the hole in the ceiling, screamed
for Lauren and ran back up the steps to try to pull my sister
up through the hole. Lauren heard me, said That's not funny
screaming like someone is hurt and I said Someone is
and she saw my sister and we got on either side and pulled
her back into the attic.

Geez. Scared the hell outta me. But she's ok. Scraped leg. Big
knot. Hole in the ceiling.

*

Lauren and I talked about going to Milledgeville (think that's
the name of the town) on our way home to see Flannery O'Connor's
place, but we were wanting to get home and it's a 14 + hour drive
from Naples home without any stops, so we didn't, but I know
where it is now and it will only take me about 6 hours to get there,
so next time I am southbound on 75, I am going off the beaten
path to Milledgeville.

*

Tired. Rested but tired. I didn't want to leave the beach
and I didn't want to stay. I wanted to come home.


So, I am home. And the lillies are all blooming, and the clematis
is nearly dead from no water all week (forgot to ask husband or son
to water) and the primrose continues to thrive. And the weeds,
oh the weeds, prolifically overtook the garden beds.

Hard to completely harbor hatred for something so resilient.