Friday, May 24, 2024

and then...

Hello, rains and storms! Haven't seen you since... Tuesday! 

Here's my thought on this day: everything about it is less severe than the days leading up to it. The rains hold off for a bit, so that my morning walk is pretty and very calm...

(the lushness of the Big Bed after the rains...)



(one out of my seven clematis climbers)



(peonies and purples)



(driveway bed: blooming Weigela)




(driveway bed: first daylilies)



(driveway bed: siberian irises)



(the Big Bed and its new extension)



(annual offerings)



(yellow false indigo)



Breakfast is quiet, on the porch...




And then I touch base with my sweet friends -- in Poland, in New Mexico, in Florida. They always make me smile. Really, always.

The rest of the morning has a lot riding on it but it's mostly out of my hands. My mother does not want to move. My mother has to move. You cannot in this world choose to stay at a Rehab facility as long as you want. The rehab docs (along with Medicare) decide when you're ready to roll.  They say now, so now it is. To their credit, they stipulated that will need more help going forward -- hence the transfer to a facility with round the clock help. 

In all this, I marvel at her enormous good fortune. She is old, but without the crippling illnesses that ruin the last years of so many lives. I have had luck in securing her a place at a terrific facility that cares for their residents at all stages of their advanced age. Given the long wait periods for nursing homes of any quality at all, especially for seniors who are short on cash, this has been an incredible piece of luck! Unbelievable, really.

And yet, I cannot remember the last time when she has wanted to spend a happy moment with me. Or when her smile would be part of our world. As always, I step in as the problem solver, something that has been in my courtyard since the day my dad left her nearly fifty years ago. Since then, I've been called lots of names by her -- cheerful, helpful, crazy, irresponsible, selfish, miracle daughter. Most recently I'm back in the negative box again, but I probably wont stay there because she needs me too much. For pretty much everything.

The wonderful staff at her retirement center succeeded in transferring her and she is now settling into her new and frankly very beautiful digs. Big floor to ceiling windows, looking out at a forested patch of land. I peek in again, but she is resting and I leave her to it. By the accounts of the staff, she is still unhappy with everyone. She will have let me know as much on tho phone when I finally reach her in the evening.

In the meantime, I pick up the kids. PJ's again. And rain. Again.







Briefly at the farmhouse, then delivered, in pounding rain and crashing thunder -- to a lesson (Sparrow), and to wait at a coffee shop for lesson to be over (Snowdrop). The girl's mom is with her. I'm in it for the ride! 

(Some of us are very wet from another dump of heavy rain.)


Then home again. It really isn't chili season, but we have last year's tomatoes still filling our freezer downstairs, so chili it is. Comfort food, even though, at the moment, my comfort and contentment are on overdrive. I'm so relieved that the day was smooth, the transfers were completed, the storms were lighter, and that the week ended with a gentle patter rather than a  great big crash.

With love...

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