Labyrinth

There's only one way in and out of a labyrinth. Like life, I guess you could say. Unlike a maze, you can't get lost going this way and that, looking for a way out. There isn't any ambiguity. But as you follow the path around and around, there's a lot of switching directions, and just when you think you're close to the exit, you end of somewhere else entirely, and there's still quite a bit of walking to do.

I've been at a T'ai Chi Chih retreat in New Mexico, and it felt completely luxurious to give myself over to the practice for a few days. I ignored my email and forgot about Facebook. And I walked the labyrinth shown above every day.

I also walked to the Rio Grande with my friend L, and that made me remember the trip cross country the summer of 2012 when my daughter M and I drove my mom out here to live with me. We wrote down all the names of the rivers we crossed. We crossed the Platte River over and over again which made it seem a bit like a labyrinth.

And in walking the labyrinth at the retreat center, I thought of the labyrinth in the meditation garden at one of the hospitals where Dan stayed before he died. I walked through it over and over one evening. I think I had an inkling then of where things were leading for Dan. I just thought it would take a lot longer to get there.

It's brutally hot here in southern California. The drought is intensifying, and very little lush green was visible from the sky. Flying into Burbank the mountains looked brown and sharp like the spines of desiccated pre-historic animals.

My next destination as I wander around taking a break from caring for my mom will not be at all brown and spiny. Stay tuned. I will ramble on again from there.

Flow Chart for Traveling with My Mother

My mother has smoked since she was 14. She's 88 now, and quitting is a tired subject. In addition, she's somewhat frail and needs a walk-in or roll-in shower with a shower seat. She walks very slowly, and really can't walk very far unassisted. I tried sleeping in her room (non-smoking) the first night on the road. I would get up when she got up and walk her down the hall and around the corner to the smoking courtyard, I thought. At 3:30 a.m. she stood up and shouted and waved her arms around. I think she was asleep. She shouted again a couple of times an hour later--still asleep and dreaming, no doubt. My daughter M, who has traveled with her grandmother prior to this this trip, said, "Yes, she does that every night around 3:00 or 4:00." Thus, my enthusiasm for sharing a room with my mother waned.

The second night we got my mom a room with a door that opened to the outside. I slept in the other room with my daughter. My mom could then quite ably walk herself outside for a smoke without much risk of taking a fall. In the morning I was a new person.

The third night was more difficult. The door to the outside in my mom's room was heavy and hard for her to open. Utah state law required that she smoke 30 feet away which meant a stumbly path into the parking lot. M borrowed a plastic chair from our balcony and set it around the far corner of the motel just a few feet away from my mom's door where she could light up out of sight. Still the doorway had an awkward sill that we worried about. Hence the flow chart.

And so tonight, our last on the road, with thanks to the fact that Las Vegas is apparently a mecca for smokers, my mom has a smoking room on the first floor with a roll-in shower. I won't tell you about the crazy part. About how I accidentally made the reservation through Expedia instead of directly with the hotel. Or how Expedia fucked it up. I will just say that a wonderful desk clerk named David fixed everything that Expedia botched.

Now, on a less mundane note, the west is full of wonders.

Rivers crossed today: Green River, San Rafael, Virgin (several times,) Muddy

Most disconcerting sign: CAUTION! BRIDGE DECKS AHEAD!
Ensuing dialogue: "Google that for me, M."
                              "Sorry, Mom, no 3G."

Good-bye Nebraska/Hello Colorado

This is Nebraska.

This is a coffee break.

This is a rest stop.

This is Colorado.

This is the unexpected beauty you sometimes find while traveling.

Rivers crossed today:
The Platte (at least 5 times), S'Bra Middle Creek, Blue, South Branch of the Crooked Creek, Deer Creek, Beaver Creek (3 times) Spring Creek, South Platte River.

Junk food eaten (by me): Coca-cola, a Snickers protein bar, a Starbucks scone, Planters trail mix.