Words on my notepad, last two weeks:

hellebores
aquarelle
salt water
gullah
absinthe
Abbey Road
frangipani
asterix
$41,283.60
Russian sage
referrals
scabiosa
planorbid
temple tree
Nembulas
heretic
ruched
black beans
rotel
long-grain rice
sinistral
cloisonne
soft-exit
1969
Khepri
eponymous
dupatta
sedum
salwar kameez
Ice Angels
Giza
apogee
The Fields of the Blessed
April Remembered
foist
astilbe

It's raining, it's pouring...


Had a call yesterday from Joan telling me she was at the ER
with my mother-in-law--possible heart attack. Went to the
ER and found that things were going well. EKG normal--1st
set of tests very good but the doctor wanted to keep her overnite.

Picked her up this morning and took her home. She's feeling much
better. It's just hard for her--all of this. Gene in the hospital since
Father's Day, and now he's in a hospital 55 miles from home, his leg
sliced open from the thigh to the ankle, a wound vac running constantly.

With her foot in a cast and boot, she can't drive, and she really
doesn't need to go every day--it's too hard on her. She's an amazing
87 year old. No one ever believes that she can be that age. She's
one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen, and she continues
to grow more beautiful with each passing year.

Fog

I was outside under the carport, hiding
between the Highlander and the raised
flower bed so my son wouldn't see me trashing
my lungs with cigarettes and killing myself
by degrees when it rolled in and all the unspokens
burdening my being became clear the way things
do when mist envelops and you can't rely on what you see.

The streetlights became minature suns. The trees
white buffaloes come together for the ghost dance.
And I, I had become a visitor to my own home--
a visitor exploring the delicacies of finely spun
webs stretched between the morning glories
and tiny inland nautili scattered across the crumbling
concrete planters.

Surely I did not know this place. Could not have been
standing there for an hour or more chatting about Jersey,
lunch in Manhattan. This place I stood in, with the fog
wrapping me in its cocoon was not the same. I know so.
Because I was not the same. I was five margaritas,
ten marlboros and four months removed from
the night you died. A fogless, starry, moonlit night,
so bright my eyes could not adjust to the clarity of moonlight
and mortality.

*************************************************
The fog really was inviting last night and not so thick
I couldn't see to drive.

Felt compelled to write something about it so the piece
above is my best attempt. God, it's been so long since
I've written or tried to write a poem.

Oh, and yesterday I saw a rainbow--
the first one I've seen in several years.

I kept craning my neck
to see it. I wanted to pull off the road and just look at it
until it dissipated, but I kept driving through the rain,
driving to the grocery and to the shopping mall
and to my home and to life.

Zapped

Can't continue the detailed account today. So, so tired. It's no wonder
though. Briefly:

3/26: Dad life-fighted to Louisville.

4/14: Dad brought back to M'ville by ambulance. Admitted
to Med/Surg at Regional Medical Center.

4/20: Dad dies at 10:58 p.m.

4/24: Dad is buried at West KY Veteran's Cemetery with full
military honors (30 year Navy officer)

4/25: 3:00 a.m. or so: Eldest brother and his girlfriend
leave in the middle of the night. Everyone drinking that
night. Words exchanged. I wasn't there (youngest had school
the next day so I went home early)

4/28: Take my sister and her daughter to Nashville. Spot
the beagles on the parkway. Stay until they are rescued.
Arrive in N'ville and stay the night with Lauren.

4/29: Take my sis and niece to the airport at 7 a.m.

5/01: Return to work and classes. Have one more month
of Spanish, Psychology, and Philosophy to complete.

5/02-6/18: Life's a blur. Brain in a fog. Wrote some things. Just
drifted and cried most every day. Several times a day.

6/18--Father's Day: Mom planned a big picnic.
We were going to celebrate out in the back by Dad's
garden. Rained all morning. Ate inside. Too
emotional to go see my fahter-in-law. Called
and left him a message that I would be by to see him
on Tuesday.

11:00 p.m.: Call from my mother-in-law. Father-in-law
had a heart attack. Was admitted at 5 that evening.

6/19, Monday: Called to check on father-in-law (Gene).
Reported to be feeling better.

6/20: 6:30--Go to hospital to see Gene. He looks good
and says he's feeling better. Docs are running tests.

6/21: Don't go to hospital--class night. No word from
mother-in-law (Marie). Hoping all is ok.

6/22: Daughter's 25th birthday. Called her then called Marie.
Gene in CCU--heart failure. Will need a quadruple bypass.

6/23-7/06: Can't remember--too much going on.

7/06. Quadruple Bypass. Gene did well. Long way to go.

7/26: Oldest son's 28th birthday

8/07: Gene moved to long-term care facility for further rehab

8/15: Start my Stats class. Every T & Th. morning. 9:30-
10:45. Must work an extra hour to and hour and a half
to make up time.

8/22: Gene sent to hospital with fever, CHF, and pneumonia.

8/25: Emergency surgery performed. Wound infected with
clostridium perfringens. Serious. Serious. Did well in surgery.

8/27: Call from friend. Wants to die (as in suicide).

8/28: My 30th wedding anniversary.

8/29: Mother-in-law told by doc that her right foot
must go in a cast and boot. Sends her to the sports rehab
facility to be shown the correct way to use a walker.
Driving restrictions. Much pain in her foot.

8/29: D shows up at my house. Wants to stay for a few nights.
Paranoia worse. Feels she's being stalked. Draining night.

8/30: Drive to Owensboro for Criminology class. 2 hour round trip.
Get home and youngest son tells me to call my mom. She may have skin cancer.

8/30: Mom goes for cataract surgery evaluation. Doc tells her he thinks
she may have skin cancer in the inner corner of her right eye. Wants
to treat it with drops and an eye wash for one month. Will
evaluate again on 9/30. If necessary, biposy. If cancer, will send
Mom to Louisville for surgery.

8/31: D back again. Let her stay on 8/29. Said no on 8/30. Reluctantly
let her stay this night.

9/01: Father-in-law moved to a wound vac rehab facility in Evansville,IN.
55 miles away. May be there 4-6 weeks.

9/02: Walk an hour. Take Marie to get some things done. Come home.
Crash.

9/03: Work in yard 4-5 hours.

9/04: Spend several hours on Stats. Confused. Take Marie to E'ville.
Visit with Gene. Leave Marie at the hospital. Go to Best Buy
and get 2 computer chairs. I go to Michael's (son and husband
are still in Best Buy) and get funeral cones, oil paints, brushes,
some canvases, a picture frame, and a cobalt blue genie bottle.
Go to Borders. Buy Larry Levis's Elegy, Rolling Stone
magazine (Dylan on the cover), and 3 Lindor's truffles.

5:30. Go back to hospital. Visit a little longer. Take Grandma (Marie)
to Olive Garden to eat. Get home at 8:45. Read some Levis and Laux
and the Dylan interview. Crash. Sleep very poorly.

9/05: Work. School. Fatigue.

The Truth the Dead Know
by Anne Sexton

For my Mother, born March 1902, died March 1959
and my Father, born February 1900, died June 1959

Gone, I say and walk from church,
refusing the stiff procession to the grave,
letting the dead ride alone in the hearse.
It is June. I am tired of being brave.

We drive to the Cape. I cultivate
myself where the sun gutters from the sky,
where the sea swings in like an iron gate
and we touch. In another country people die.

My darling, the wind falls in like stones
from the whitehearted water and when we touch
we enter touch entirely. No one's alone.
Men kill for this, or for as much.

And what of the dead? They lie without shoes
in the stone boats. They are more like stone
than the sea would be if it stopped. They refuse
to be blessed, throat, eye and knucklebone.

Tuesday

March 28th, 2006

10 a.m. or so: We arrive at the hospital. Visiting hours started at 9:30. We slept late, so we didn't get there before 9:30. Can't remember much from this day. Just the worry, the trying to talk with a doctor (you go to the bathroom and you miss them and then they aren't back until the next day). Dad knew us and he was trying to answer the questions the nurses and therapists asked. Many he answered correctly, but they couldn't understand him.

11:00 a.m. or so: Call my brother and ask him if he can come stay with Dad so I can take Mom and Jason home to get some clothes, pay some bills, go to the bank, and make some calls. Mom and Jason had only the clothes they wore when we left town at 3 a.m. I already had my suitcase packed and in the car as I was prepared for the 4 -day conference in Nashville that I was going to attend. My brother sounded a bit put out that I would ask him to come stay with Dad. He said he'd call me back and let me know if he could.

12:30-1:00: I think Mom and I ate in the cafeteria that day. I had spinach and mushroom dish, a salad, greens, and broccoli. I remember Mom had baked cod. It was sunny outside. It was noisy in the cafeteria. It was filled with doctors. I wanted to go from table to table to find a doctor who could go upstairs and figure out what was wrong with my dad.

Around 2 p.m.: My brother shows up and says he'll stay with Dad. He opens up his paper, doesn't make eye contact with me and states that he can make no promises about how long he can stay with Dad. I lose it. I raise my voice and point my finger in his face and ask him why he's acting like he's doing everyone some great big favor. I say, "Our Dad may be dying in there and you act like this is a Sunday walk in the park kind of thing and like you're doing all of us this great favor staying here with YOUR father so YOUR mother can go home, get some clothes, and take care of some things. What in the hell is wrong with you???? " He looked quite surprised. He said some nasty things. He said he refused to speak with me again. Jason was trying to mediate and telling us we were upsetting Mom. Ugly scene. Lots of anxiety, anger, frustration.

We didn't go home that day but planned to go the next day. Plans changed.

9:30 p.m. or so: Made our way back to the hotel. More drinks and sandwiches. My drinks of choice--wine or margaritas. My brother's: the cheapest beer available. My mom's: lots of coffee. We talked until very late and then crashed. We called the hospital for a report before going to bed. Dad's vitals were stable and he was resting.

Wednesday

March 29th, 2006

ETA--10 a.m. or so. Nurses told Mom that Dad had cussed all of them out the night before and was making so much noise and was so agitated that they gave him Ativan. At this point, he is on Dilantin, Ativan, Lasix, Morphine, Potassium, and I think some other things that I can't remember at the moment but I know I have them written on a scratch piece of paper somewhere--maybe in my purse.

1:30 or so p.m.: Mom, Jason, and I are waiting for the nurse to answer our call (you had to press a button, ask to come in, and then they'd unlock the doors). Dad's team of doctors come out of the NIC--Remmel, Wanahita, and another one whose name I can't recall. They tell us they still don't have a diagnosis and are still in the ruling-out process. I write this note on a scrap piece of paper I had in my purse: Anna Wanahita, Dr. Remmel. This weekend Dr. Michael Dobbs. Ativan, Seroquel, Toradol, Keppra, Dilantin. Tomorrow: NG tube--food/Acyclovir. EEG tomorrow--3/30/06. We asked why he was on so many meds and if the meds could be making his confusion and speech worse. We're told he needs the meds to try to help him relax and to calm him down and to prevent a seizure until they know more about his condition.We make the decision to stay in Louisville because the doctors are going to insert a feeding tube. They try but can't get it in. They decide to try again on Thursday.

9:00 p.m.: We stayed all day. Rode the hotel shuttle to and from the hospital that day. Got back to the room. Yes, sandwiches again. Think Mom had a salad and baked potato. Jason and I stayed outside on the balcony and talked until late. We also answered lots of phone calls and placed lots of them to update others on Dad's condition. Very restless all night.

Attitude toward Death

Live your life that the fear of death
can never enter your heart.
Trouble no one about his religion.
Respect others in their views
and demand that they respect yours.
Love your life, perfect your life,
beautify all things in your life.
Seek to make your life long
and of service to your people.
Prepare a noble death song for the day
when you go over the great divide.
Always give a word or sign of salute when meeting
or passing a friend, or even a stranger, if in a lonely place.
Show respect to all people, but grovel to none.
When you rise in the morning, give thanks for the light,
for your life, for your strength.
Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living.
If you see no reason to give thanks,
the fault lies in yourself.
Touch not the poisonous firewater that makes wise ones turn to fools
and robs the spirit of its vision.
When your time comes to die, be not like those
whose hearts are filled with fear of death,
so that when their time comes they weep and pray
for a little more time to live their lives over again
in a different way.
Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home.

The Teachings of Tecumseh