The warm temperatures faded slightly, but I still was unable to motivate myself to move around at light speed yesterday. Sometimes my eyes grew weepy, and other times I actually laughed at a memory. I let myself float through the day.
Phone calls and email give us words like these from the J2’s about Lee, “A lot of folks will miss him; the Spreckles Organ Society, the Cactus and Succulent group, the Friends of the Blind, and there are more groups Lee was significantly involved with than I can remember right now, or even know about. …We ALL have lost such a good friend.”
I took a moment to let my fingers recreate the sequence of events at the hospital with doctors and tests. I did manage to print them out for today’s doctor visit then the phone calls started. Marion’s friends, all wordsmiths, used the phone. I was much comforted by their voices and hope I said something through my thickness that comforted them.
The sun partially drilled its way through the clouds, and I made that cabbage-chicken salad using the sharpened blades on the 1938 Sunbeam food processor. It still macerated rather than slice….darn. Don came to dinner, and her first remarks about my machine were, “Gee, that’s old.” I felt old too, but dinner on the deck was delightful. No usual cold breeze to chill us through to the bone.
I’m still not able to say what I’m feeling about Marion. Am I afraid she will she vanish if I say I loved her?