Thank you for all of the lovely heart-filling comforting comments, they were warm beams of light during the last week. This circle of cloth and care is so very swell, xox.
I'm trying to get back into a routine. Starting with this little moon, stitched on the drive to and from Oregon. "Stellaluna," star and moon. Made in last summer's indigo bucket using a dime for a resist, I think. There was even a daily painting, the first in over a month.
After days of digging, lining, jackhammering, etc... we have a newly lined mainline without tree roots growing in it, an unclogged pathway to the mainline, and a new drain in the basement floor. I am ready for a still silent space.
Part of the plumbing saga included bringing up piles of old clothes from the basement to the living room (to join the other furniture, boxes, and mattress that K used while recovering). Most of it belongs to the guys (just saying). I announced that none of it could go back to the basement until it had been seriously reviewed and deemed either sentimental (old baseball jerseys) or useful in the present (time for K's old corporate wardrobe to go!). Which led to facetime calls with the boys yesterday during which I held up dozens of pieces of clothing for their review. The result was seven bags of donations!
There is still more mopping to be done in the basement and in the house (between the melting snow, pouring rain and men tromping back and forth, the yard was turned into a mud trench).
The workers were all nice guys, but one could not get his foot out of his mouth. The company had been kind enough to rearrange the schedule so that we could leave town to be go with my mom. The day before we left, after they had finished and gone, I discovered a new worrisome leak in the basement. Someone was sent to check it out, after much frustration on my part and what seemed like confusion on his, we decided that it was ok enough for the time being.
As he was leaving, he said, "Well, now you can go on your vacation!"
"Vacation?"
"Yes, you're going out of town?"
Given how the last half an hour of trying to communicate with this man had gone, this is where I should have just said "Thanks," and let him go. "We're not going on vacation! A family member died!"
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"It's ok, it was actually a blessing. He was in p..."
"I know how that goes. I had an uncle that I hated and wasn't sorry when he died."
"We're sorry! We loved him. He was in pain..."
"Oh, well, then... have a nice day today!"
"Not so far!"
In his defense, after the last couple of weeks, I had lost all coping skills by this point. He left, I went upstairs, swore, and watched an episode of "Leave It to Beaver."
This one is about needing some sky.
Mom is sad, but ok enough, and seemed glad for the company. We went for a short walk. She's not been out in the world, other than to hospitals or quick runs to the store, for the last two months. She needs Spring to come. She's been cleaning, going through things, found his high school photo- charming. We found common ground in conversations about the past, stories of how they met, and of how she and Dad met- both tales were funny and sweet.
Through is truly a place.
