It's coming for me

I heard water running this morning, and in the recognition of that moment, I simultaneously realized that I'd been hearing water running too long. I have a history with water. This time it was my powder room toilet. Pulling the heavy porcelain lid off the tank, I saw the water was well above the water line etched inside. In fact the water was just an inch or so from overflowing. I jiggled the handle. No effect. I flushed. The same scenario unfolded again. I flushed once more. This time the water stopped, and I laid an "out of order" note on the lid.

The plumber left a couple of hours ago after installing all new "innards" in the toilet tank and a new shut-off valve. My refrigerator has been giving me trouble, too. The in-door water dispenser goes rogue once in a while. You fill a glass or a water bottle and come back to find a pool on the kitchen floor. It's been a long time since I trusted my appliances. They're like wild teenagers waiting for me to leave so they can throw a kegger. I try to outwit them by only using them when I'm home, one ear cocked for misbehavior. But they're devious and don't respond well to correction either. The repairman has been here three times for the fridge, but by the time he arrives, the dripping has stopped. The toilet in my bathroom has a handle that has been repaired twice that still gets stuck every few weeks or so--usually in the middle of the night--so that I leap up in a panic, certain that my feet will land in water.

Last night the farmer who farms the land I own in Nebraska called to tell me that the dam in the crick (that's how we say it in the Midwest) is being undermined by the rushing water. I will have to spend five hundred dollars to fix it--or let the water gnaw away at the land.

The first house I remember, where I lived between the ages of one and five, had a front door that faced the Mississippi River. I lived for five years in the Land of 10,000 Lakes and still go there regularly to visit. I've wanted to live by the ocean ever since I heard my first Beach Boys song. Water, are you listening?  I love you. Really. You had me at the first burble or lap or crash.

The river of grief that was my divorce is narrowing. Filling up with silt. Being squeezed to a trickle. But still there are issues (scroll way down the sidebar to the timeline.) I'm going to say that when everything is resolved--all of the last annoying drips of detail--that my water problems will dry up and reveal sheer beauty.

And, Water, just so you know, you're where my ashes will go when I die.


Photo credit for the photo of me: The Awesome Amazing Unparalleled Luminous Katie Jo Emanuel Heller Le'Rawk Mattson