How can I thank people for indulging me over this past week as I tried to make sense of our sudden death? Yesterday I went back to the cemetery and somehow could not find that grave though I have visited it so many times with the one who now lies in it. I had to phone David at work who was so kind even in the middle of his meeting. “Go left, then right, go all the way back to that fence behind the houses…” And there finally it was, filled in now, with that spray of white roses just freshened with drops from a sudden downpour. I drew a few out and brought them home here.
For the rest, life went on:I had a blood test. “Did you eat?” the tech asked. “Just coffee” I said. She shook her head and scowled. “Even coffee is bad. It’s a diuretic; it makes your veins a little less full and the job is harder for us. For you too!” she added and sank the needle in.
I moved through my day. I stopped at the shop of my friend who works in wood and picked up the three drawers he had stripped for me. They feel like satin now. I brought them home to stain and finish myself, the staining and finishing being the parts that make me happy.
Then I did another whole thing and a whole thing after that and on some crazy whim at 7:00 at night I began on these drawers while Dave worked on our taxes in the dining room. He had to do that job. I didn’t ‘have’ to do mine. Certainly not right then amidst the funeral flowers with a sore back and a mind as tossed as a Caesar salad but that’s just what happens to me sometimes: I get stuck on ‘spin’.
Today I will drive three hours to get my co-grandmother and bring her to our new baby who is just beginning to offer that shy little smile with one half of her mouth. Then more furniture-work and the column of course and tomorrow’s blog and then the living-out of some dinner plans I cooked up three months ago.
These are the drawers and some flowers and the taxes. A bottle of Scotch is still out I see, not that Scotch ever called to me thank God, thank God.