The Exquisite Corpse

(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Exquisite_corpse)

Chaos breaks out. (Escorted by generous impulses.)
Wow! May you fulfill all your wishes!
If you were not there to encourage me,
it wouldn’t mean what it does to me.
And I love sailing this ship with you -
momentous, this birthday, two score!
I’ve known you since you were a kid,
and the world is a better place because you’re in it.
We met on Upland Road,
with apologies to Mollie Katzen and Sesame Street.
When we went for breakfast afterwards,
I would like to use the Way-Back Machine.
For example, Terror Tales III is supposed to be set in Texas
but it was ironic. OPPS!
But all I really want for Christmas is an aide-de-camp;
you’re with me everyday.
Espresso coffee has less caffeine than regular coffee,
what wonderful things you know!
A woman’s choice is never wrong,
closer to the higher source than most of us will ever achieve.
Would you wish to be without them?
We were just kids running through a field,
with me a few steps behind, at your back, always.
It starts when you say We and know who you mean.
Who made the world?
We cherish our old friendship and raise her up if she falls,
leaning in toward love;
I remember watching, as she and eventually all
the grandchildren, learned to tread water.
You are, you know.
We brought homemade signs and water bottles,
I probably would’ve given it all up years ago
but I don’t know if you would’ve let me.
Don’t waste time, and most importantly find the people who live,
who get it and hold them close.
It is work and love that makes a life blessed.
Courageous and fierce and singing and
“Moses supposes his toeses are roses.”
I resist meanness, admire the frost on the least twigs of the branches.
This is a story about a kitten all by himself
and then she to came with live with us!
We talked about you, about me, what has life brought us,
not always the best things.
Long hair, no hair, infant, teen, woman,
shoes, dolls, plays, scraped knees, pedicured toes;
I am worried about poppy seed muffin bits,
but you are still an easy morning’s ride.
May your days be carefree as the baby sand hill
cranes that you watched along the lakefront.
She was full of life, full of love,
and glistening with joy - it’s simply wonderful to have known you.
So happy birthday!!
Eleven for the age we pierced my ears;
let’s start with the couch incident.
Life lessons learned about you.
Thank you for loving the truth even
more than chocolate and shoes,
Allowing spoons to cool then carefully remove tiny hats,
And with your vivacious presence and
beautiful bald head you are living the best story of all.
Remind me of the jar of sand and salt you took with you to Iowa.
I admire how much you give to what you know to be right.
You teach the rest of us how to live.
As Pooh says, “Many happy returns of the day”
and loves you for your ability to feel thankful –
A gift as rare these days as it is exquisite.
We believe in you.
It appears you were not born yesterday.
It was tres fun and ah mees it.
When I say that the moment I met you
I felt we’d known each other our whole lives,
You became my sister.
How you showed up in an excellent hat, all alive.
Grandly, she was and she is “and always will be.”
The music soars and lifts you away from the ordinary.

Update on Torch

Mr. Husband is posting this, with permission, for reasons that will be immediately apparent...

This is a medical update so you know what's going on and so that the family and friends we see at the memorial service for Torch's grandmother next weekend know what to expect, at least those of you who are following this blog.

The problems that Torch reported in "Weird" are getting more severe. Walking is very challenging and hazardous, and we plan to rent a wheelchair Tuesday. Her right arm and leg are foreign to her and only retain some sensation. Typing is almost impossible, even left-handed, and speech is chancy because she loses her train of thought, can't find words quickly, and is easily rattled and confused.

We have mounted a counterattack. We voiced our worries to Dr. Smile, her oncologist; to her new neurologist; and of course Dr. Fish, and all three (well, in Smile's case it's his nurse who is doing everything so far) have leaped into action. She had an MRI today, four weeks ahead of schedule, at Hospital W close to home, and all three doctors have requested the report and images. She will see two or maybe all three doctors before we leave for the Cape Thursday afternoon.

Smile's nurse proposed the very comforting theory that Torch's symptoms are the result of swelling from last October's radiation, not direct damage from the radiation or new tumor growth. She prescribed medicine to deal with the presumed swelling; Torch is taking it reluctantly because her current problems are harder on her than the possible side effects of the meds.

Torch's next post is in progress but it's a very slow process. She sends her apologies for its taking so long.

The Gift

My friends and family, led by 614, Mr. Husband, Froggie, Spock's Brain, and AFH, did an amazing thing for my birthday. They created a Book with pages sent in by my near and dear. (And my far and dear.)

There were pages sent in by schoolmates and colleagues, by neighbors and (like Rabbit's) Friends and Relations. There were photographs, collages, recipes, memories, cartoons, doggerel, poems, haiku, and more. And so many people were represented!

I look at this Book several times a day, often crying or laughing over it, and today I decided to write back. Soon.

The Chimera

My Grandmother's Flowers

Late Thursday night my grandmother died. She had been failing tiny bit by tiny bit for five years, approximately. At the very end she was dehydrated and her kidneys were failing, but she was not in pain. Her three daughters were there when she died. She was a force to be reckoned with, my grandmother. She was universally loved, sweetly stubborn, and provided our family's moral compass.

After I graduated from college I went through a phase where I would wake up very early in the morning, often before dawn, and be convinced that I was the only person in the world. When this happened, I called my grandmother. We didn't talk about existential angst. She told me what flowers were blooming in the garden, and what guests were arriving for lunch. She included me, and those terrifying mornings became easier.

One summer evening when we were at her house, my mother and I stayed up late playing a final game of Scrabble. We were surprised by the appearance of a large white bat running across the lawn, and I think both of us gasped. The vision resolved itself into my grandmother in her size 4 nightdress. She had only just remembered to move her sprinklers. She was unembarrassed when we mentioned it the next morning. The flowers needed watering.

Weird

God, this is weird. There's no way I can describe how strange it is to see my words appear on the screen without typing them. Mr. Husband is sitting next to me being my amanuensis. (Look it up.) I'm thinking this has got to be the most awkward way to express myself, but I have to believe there is something I will learn from it.

In the last two months I have become aware of certain deficits in my neurological makeup. My body has become progressively weaker on the right side. I limp emphatically and my balance and coordination are shot. My right hand and foot are weak and uncoordinated. As of this week I can neither type nor write comfortably. Although these symptoms are erratic, they are worse when I am stressed. Fortunately, because of the way the body is put together, I am only experiencing these problems from the neck down. There is no way of knowing yet if they are at their full extent or if they will develop further.

On Monday I am going to see a new, fancy neurologist. I'm hoping he will have some knowledge, some generous impulse toward me. Before Monday I need to corral the results of the various tests I've had done. I tried all week to get through to my doctors and got no response. Today, in tears of frustration and fear, I asked Fish what to do. An hour later he'd charmed the staff at Hospital F and explained to me how to charm the staff at Hospital J. I resented it enormously and it worked. I'm so grateful. And pissed.

And in other news, I am quitting my job. Long story. I will tell it next time. In the meantime I am convinced that this is the best thing I can do for myself and for my employer.

Did I mention that this is weird?