Sunday, May 18, 2014
In chronological order, beginning with Friday afternoon:
My mother weighed in during her doctor's visit at 99 pounds.
On Saturday Piper, our beloved and ancient cat, died.
Later that evening, the man who loves me was taken by ambulance back to the hospital.
I came home from the E.R. in the wee hours of Sunday morning to find I'd forgotten to take my house keys with me and was locked out, thus having to awaken M, who due to Piper's final hours the night before, had barely slept.
Today I turned off my phone and, after briefly checking in with my mom to say good morning around 8:00 a.m., went back to bed and slept until 3:00.
I might be coming down with a cold. But as I sit here with my cup of tea, I am aware that the figurative cup overflows. Many loving condolences re the cat; daughter C's offer to come to my side; friends who've left messages saying that no distance is too far, if I need them; a friend who proofread the galleys for my book while my brain went out of writer mode and into survival mode, another friend who came today and allowed me to do some hard thinking out loud, helped with chores around my house, and brought us strawberries; my mom, who in her frail state is still more than willing to pitch in and help in any way she can; M doling out love to Piper, me, and my mom and offering to drive me to the hospital.
I sit here in the dark, replaying it all. Re-evaluating, re-grouping, readying myself for tomorrow.
Thank you. All of you.