My Day

"If you ever wonder why you ride the carousel,

You do it for the stories you can tell."

Jimmy Buffet

What a day this has been. Like a mini-rollercoaster. You know the little ones you find in the kiddie section of the county fair. It's usually right next to the merry go round that any self-respecting kid knows is not a real carousel.

First of all I found myself at Paneras with a almond encrusted bearclaw, big cup of iced tea and some of my favorite people in the world. It was like the first day of a new school year for my writing group, Le Chat Noir Writers Circle. We've not met since June. It was like old home week. Lots of hugs, laughter, and delightful "what I did this summer" stories (attended a wedding in a 13th century Italian castle, a grown-up Scavenger Hunt, book signing, and knocking on doors for the Census bureau in 100 degree temperatures.) The feminine energy was touchable. I felt very much at home.

For me there's a story of awareness in that feeling. I haven't stopped long enough to try to put the feelings into words, but I think it's an important stage of growth for me. Stayed tuned for that one.

This afternoon I attended Sophia's funeral. I've never, with a capital "N" seen our little church so filled with people, purple, flowers, or candle power. I would have worried about all the people blocking the aisles, except that several of those blockers were firemen. Once I decided they could handle any mass exodus, I relaxed. God, it feels good to give up control every now and then.

At the risk of tooting my own horn, I was honored to be asked to make a pall to cover Sophie's casket. I know you're shaking your head like I must be crazy; like don't I have enough other stuff to do so why add designing, fabric shopping, sewing, then more fabric shopping because I changed my mind mid-stream to a 48 hour period? Truth is I couldn't NOT do it. And there it was when I walked into the church. I don't think any "real" princess could have been better sent to her glory than Sophia.

After leaving the church, I could think of little else other than jumping into the cool pool in my backyard. All the rain we've had lately has put a definite chill into my serenity pool. I walked in the back door, already stripping out of my clothes, to a small crisis with Dad. I will spare you the details. Suffice it to say that when a poop-fixated man with not a lot of life left in him takes it upon himself to go to the bathroom, it's going to get ugly.

My charitable, Christian attitude changed abruptly. What the hell has he done to himself now was one of the nicer thoughts that crossed my mind and passed my lips in a sound similar to a low growl. Forgetting the pool I went into caregiver overdrive - quick, efficient, dispassionate movements (no pun intended).

Then I looked at my Dad's face. He was really, really uncomfortable. And not just for himself. For having to rely on his daughter to help do what his body is having trouble doing by itself. Don't judge a man until you've had his belly ache. I did another abrupt change of emotions. While standing in the bathroom watching the water in the toilet go around in circles, I took a breath.

Just a few minutes ago, Dad told me I'd gone beyond the call of duty. No, I said, I've just done what the job called for. When a daughter signs up for a caregiving job, she quickly learns she must take the bad along with the good. You just don't know when or where the bad is going to show up. Like the bumper sticker says, Poop Happens. And like everything we've experienced so far, we will make it through this trial. There will be time enough.

Dad has had a pain pill and is resting quietly. My sister is in charge of dinner. I'm sitting here chillin' without jumping in the pool.

You know how you feel when a roller coaster ride is almost over - when you've met up with your stomach somewhere half-way down the last steep drop? If my day were a coaster metaphor then the cart is beginning to slow down and coast into the exit chute. Some people love roller coasters. They get off, run around and get back in line for the next ride. I'm more of a Ferris Wheel kind of girl. I like my rides slow, smooth and methodical. If there is any swinging, it's because in a fit of daring I gently rock the seat when we're stopped at the top of the wheel. These manic caregiving days are not my favorite. But I'm getting some good stories out of them. Is that self-serving?

Wishing for you a day that takes you for a ride,

Merry ME

P.S. OMG, I almost forgot. How could I forget. In between writing group and the funeral I stopped by the house for a bite to eat. Okay ... I stopped by to check on Dad. The mail arrived and Sweetie presented me with a box of Merry ME goodies. Business cards, a hat, a canvas tote, note cards and a journal. All have my name on them and a big yellow sunflower. I swear, I love that man.