Easter in Pillville

My dad always bought my mom an Easter lily, so I bought us one. By mutual agreement, we decided to forgo the yucky candy. 

We didn't make a big deal out of Easter here in Pillville. I was scheduled to teach T'ai Chi Chih in the park this morning at 11:00, but got another teacher to sub for me at the last minute because at 10:15  my mom still hadn't gotten out of bed. She's usually up between 8:00 and 8:30, and given the extra meds, I was uneasy with our situation. Everything turned out okay with my mom. She had kind of a low key sleepy day, but by this evening, she was totally herself.

And all this made me rise up (ahem) out of my denial. I cannot really commit to anything--not even an hour's worth of something one mile from my house without pre-planning for a caregiver. This is how it is now. I'm okay with it. But it's like a new pair of uncomfortable shoes. I'm just gonna wear the damn things and break them in. I spent a couple of hours staring at my calendar this morning deciding what to keep, what to jettison. I have a plan. And the plan will change. I'm okay with that too, though I worry sometimes that out and out fatigue is what makes me so complacent.

All in all, it's been a lovely weekend. I've reconnected with two old friends. I've counted my blessings--and I've probably been able to do that more easily because of those conversations with friends.

Tonight at dinner my mom told me about a very vivid dream she had of her deceased twin sister. She told me about how, in real life at age 13, they were grown-ups, sent out to work waitress jobs. How people didn't tip back then, and that the one customer who did tip would cause a stampede among the waitresses when they saw him coming down the sidewalk toward the door. How, in that restaurant, she lost the beautiful rings that her mother gave her. She took them off in the locker room to put on her nylon stockings and her uniform. They were gone just like that, and nobody would admit to taking them.

We talked about how people want mementos of their dead loved ones. Rings, and pictures, and other things. It made me think about my dad. I wish I had his vintage silk ties and the neon sign from his business.

It's funny though--all this He Has Risen religiosity. Spring and fertility. Eggs and pretty colored candy. Exactly one year ago, I was at Dan's place cleaning out his refrigerator. I was on a mission. Chemo, radiation, suppressed immune system, spoiled food. He was in terrible shape. And here I am again this spring, in yet another season of decline.

But hey everyone! I have that number I can call!

Hope your Easter was sweet.