Ah well, I suppose in life, there's no such thing as a normal day. Usually that's a good thing. Every day brings something new, unique, refreshingly original to the table. That kind of oscillation between unpredictable events, encounters, moments, is fantastic, right? If the days would all just repeat themselves you'd go nuts. Nonetheless, I would have enjoyed just a few boring, repetitive ones, given that the first couple of weeks in September were on the extreme side of unusual. After all, your mother dies only once in your lifetime, unless it's one of those episodes where the person dies and then miraculously revives and writes a book about what death felt like. Hey, Anne Strainchamps, who often does stories about bizarre events, recently interviewed such a person on National Public Radio! It was a very weird interview.
So, as you may guess from the above, I did not have a boring old normal day. Instead, I woke up to a sick Ed.
Now, given our age, and given the fact that we're walking breathing humans, sickness is going to make an appearance here, like it or not. But Ed is rarely sick and when he is, there immediately arises for me the Problem of the Unknown Malady. He always tunes out completely, sleeps through the day and night, looks like death itself, hates to be questioned about his ailments, and refuses to go to see a doctor to identify what exactly is wrong with him. Today, I do not think he is contagious, but really, who can tell. He is just plain sick and out of it and very very quiet, because, well, this is how he has survived for 73 years and this is the way he will continue until life totally drains out of him. Which, we're hoping, will not happen in the immediate future. Believe me, a dying Ed would be Trauma Supreme for me. We're not going there!
I walk to take care of the animals...
I eat breakfast, alone of course...
And then I sit in the farmhouse and watch him feel miserable from whatever Unknown Malady has struck.
[Alright, I do engage in time-killing activities during these hours. For example, I read David Lebovitz' monthly piece on life -- and food -- in France. This is always entertaining. This time he described some of the bad meals he had on his vacation in the south of France. People are always surprised that the French should tolerate and keep in business places that serve awful food, but the fact is, restaurants, especially those in small towns, aren't just there to show off the talents of local chefs. For one thing, talented local chefs dont typically stay put in small villages. These eateries are, as David reminds you, places for people to gather and spend time together. Food is secondary, if you can believe it, to conviviality. As I am so often the ONLY solo diner in a French restaurant, I often wonder what happens to the introverts who have the misfortune to be born in France or Italy or Spain? Do they never go out to eat? I rarely see them. Never in these small town eateries. The push to socialize in these countries is strong. Not sure I could take a steady diet of dining with friends, family, colleagues, dogs even! I like the occasional quiet meal.]
Eventually I can't stand the sickly farmhouse quiet anymore and go outside to weed. You know how desperate I am to leave the room if I am out weeding in September. (Typically gardening is not what I think about this month.)
By afternoon I insist that he disappear from the living room, I air the place out and go get the kids.
("hurry up, gaga, I want to beat her to the farmhouse!")
(clearly the message "life is not a race" has not sunk in...)
Happy twosome. Nice distraction from the NEW elephant in the room! Well, out of the room actually. Remember -- I chased him over to the sheep shed.
Evening quiet -- too quiet! You know how when you are well and content you can hear the presence of someone in the room even when they're not talking, but when one of you is ill, suddenly the noise around you changes? Now, Ed does say he is feeling better and he can actually move, which is fantastic. But since I dont know what hit him, I have a bit of a wait and see attitude about all of it. I'm definitely hoping that tomorrow I'll wake up to a boring Wednesday. Would be nice....
