Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Tuesday Afternoon Weather Report


The clouds pile up against the mountains until they become mountains themselves. The blue sky comforts me on this May afternoon. But the wind, which today is cold, not hot, I find unforgiving. I foist words onto natural phenomena, practicing anthropormorphism with abandon. Trees scratch at my windows as if they want in. The neighbor's wind chimes call me toward something, but what? I ignore, but they keep calling.

Comfort. Forgiveness. Wanting. These are words for the day you tell your boyfriend you can no longer care for him at your house. You explain that you cannot be the day nurse and the night nurse. That you never wanted to be a nurse at all. That you know nothing of what you need to know. That crisis hovers in the corner by the bed where he sleeps and that you see its hungry eye on him.

You know love. You know fresh green juice. You know the numbers 9-1-1. You know that clouds are not mountains and that sky and the wind care nothing for anyone.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

I'm sorry; I can't imagine how difficult that conversation was and you wrote about it so beautifully.

I am a blogaholic and love yours. I take care of my mom and am in the middle of a never ending divorce. We (I) am trying to sell our house and still live in the same house. Oh dear, I am gearing up for a novel so I better stop there. What is the first step to starting my own blog?

Yours in admiration, Laura

Elizabeth said...

You can only do so much, Denise, and you're doing well beyond so much. A good friend and I find comfort in the phrase "it's impossible."

ain't for city gals said...

You are reaching your limit...or maybe already have. It does nobody good to try to keep going on...you need help. There is such a learning curve with medical issues and it takes time and you are running out of time...which is the main problem with the health care situation now. They want to send them home but regular people can't take care of them...especially in a crisis situation. When my dad was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer it took my mom, my three sisters, myself and the hospice nurse to keep him at home (not saying you need hospice but we learned TONS from her. You just can't do it by yourself.

Ms. Moon said...

I have no words. Just love.