Dec

12

A perfect day

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Let me tell you about the incredible day I had yesterday.

I woke up with sunlight pouring in, we’ve had a number of gorgeously mild days in a row here. I got ready for the barn, and drove to visit Marty on my way. He’s my current hospice assignment; 77 and living in a memory care facility. I’m not sure what has ravaged his health, he’s in a wheelchair and pretty fragile but capable of good short conversation.

When I signed in, I gave the front desk worker a little gift cup of hot chocolate fixings. (To be honest, a re-gift from a hospice holiday party, but it was cute and I’m always trying to think of small things to hand out to the tired facility workers.) She brightened up and got to talking with me about her grandchildren, she’s just 40 but has several already. On my way back out, she had one little guy crawling on the desk with her, and her young daughter stood nearby with a ripe round belly. “See, another on the way,” her mom said, her face a complicated combo of resignation and delight.

Marty was up for lunch and I brought him out to the main room, where residents were served some just-okay looking trays of stew. We were talking a bit about one of his old jobs — he has some amazing history, from driving around the country in a VW van during the 60’s selling marijauna paraphernalia to being a ship photographer on a boat that cruised up and down the entire Missisippi — and he mentioned that he had a bunch of old photos we could look at. I went and looked around in his room and sure enough, tucked down on the bottom shelf of a cabinet, an old cardboard box jam-packed with photo prints.

What a treasure trove this was. He must have hundreds in there, an archeological gift of his past. He was able to tell me about every picture I held up; there were shots of deep blue glaciers from cruising to Alaska, people on the riverbacks of the Missippi, images from his year on an oil rig, friends and family, and photo after photo of handsome young full-mustachio’d Marty with knock-dead gorgeous women. “I never did have a problem flirting,” he told me, his eyes twinkling. Boy, I guess.

He clearly enjoyed this and I sure did too, and now we have something special to do every time I visit. Before I left, I wheeled him outside so we could both tilt our heads to the sun and feel it on our faces. “I like spending time with you,” he told me. “I like spending time with you,” I said truthtfully. “I am so glad I met you, Marty.”

“It was just one of those ‘spose to be’s,” he said, and we kissed each other on the cheek.

I felt almost too full of good feelings to do anything else, but went on to the barn where the good weather made up for the pervasive mud and I got Little Joe’s stall cleaned up and took him for a ride outside where I was brave enough to canter him through a field for the first time. Cool air, saddle creaking, birds rising into the sky, sweet Joe Baloney the Show Pony flicking his soft ears and feeling in perfect harmony with his rhythms. One of the very best rides I’ve had.

When I got home I texted Dylan and he swung by for a short visit, playing with Billy and politely refusing the sweet treats I always press on him in favor for some prosciutto (?!). We had just been out to dinner the night before, and I dragged him through the mall with me afterwards where we stumbled upon a choir of women singing Christmas carols, the acoustics a shockingly perfect venue for their angelic tones.

Later, I watched another my-choice-only movie while eating an absolutely crazy delicious concoction of Dubai chocolate flavored popcorn that I’d impulse-bought at Cost Plus World Market mixed with lemon Noose yogurt. Don’t knock it, it was the most wonderful combination of too-sweet and tart, creamy and pillowy-crunchy. The balmy weather had made the house a little stuffy so I gluttonously turned the AC on to 67 degrees for a while, just because I could.

I had a few spicy just-for-me texts to relish. I exchanged some funny messages with friends, I made plans for Friday night. I took a bubble-filled bath and danced to Marina’s Princess of Power album (I am OBSESSED). I played with my beloved Billy and cuddled him in bed while scrolling TikToks.

Some days have felt so heavy, but this one — light as a dream, more rich and textured than any fantasy, so damn good I had to write it down and make sure I remember it.

Dec

2

Diamonds in the coal

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Some things that were initially very hard post-divorce have actually become delightful. For instance, when Dylan comes over. At first I really hated how he felt like a visitor as opposed to my child that I live with, and so I felt a nasty kind of internal pang when he would arrive and knock on the door or when I would say goodbye to him. But now that time has gone by and he has come and gone many times and immediately makes himself at home here, the knock is so fun! Sometimes he does it to the Terminator theme: knockknockknock knockknock. And I just feel a whoosh of happiness that he’s arrived and there’s the whole funny business of keeping Billy the escape artist at bay and nothing about it feels anything other than good. Saying goodbye is the same, it doesn’t feel like goodbye and I guess I’ll never see you again, young stranger, it’s a routine of hugs and comically checking for forgotten items and hollering LOVE LOVE! with Billycat in my arms and waving madly as he gets in his car, knowing that it won’t be long until I see him again, not long at all.

There is a real sense of quality over quantity when it comes to spending time with the boys. The loss of the everyday has not disappeared for me but it isn’t nearly as heavy as it initially felt. Boy, there was this one football game where John and I were both talking to Dylan on the field afterwards and John said “See you at home!” and took off, while I stood there and sort of felt like I was crumbling into infinity dust from the inside, and then that feeling kind of embiggened over the next few days and, well, it was dark and sad, living that truth of not being the parent who could see him at home and get the full post-game download. It’s not just losing the wet towels and kitchen counter crumbs and barely-mumbled acknowledgments, it’s losing every bit of the best stuff, just seeing him day to day, the tiny fun moments and the bigger discussions and everything in between. It is hard, period, BUT. BUT! But now it is intentional, now it is one-on-one time, now it is seeing each other in new ways and building new traditions. Now it is really beautiful, even though it is not the same.

I don’t see Riley as often — college, girlfriend, he’s 20 now whaaaaat?! — but that also feels good and intentional when I do. There is a point in parenting with a partner when the kid gets old enough that you don’t feel overwhelmed by doing it solo and it becomes something special, or at least that was my experience, and that’s how I feel all the time with them now. Like it’s special. It was also my experience that the two of them got along better when it was just us three, and that’s something I get to enjoy now too.

I am living out some ups and downs for sure but it sure feels like things are on an upswing lately. Thanksgiving was a real gift this year, far more pleasant than I’d expected, and the rest of the holidays feel much more manageable and even something to look forward to. My cards arrived and they are wonderful, and it is so cheering to think of sitting down at my little sun-drenched desk in the living room to write out addresses to the recipients I choose, how that will be such a full pleasure this time around.

There were times during the first weeks after the initial flurry of housepainting and repairs and updates and whatnot when it felt a little yikes to be on my own, a little blue a little scary a little hooboy. Maybe I’ll feel like that again, maybe it’ll come and go, but I think I am luxuriating in it in a way I wasn’t sure would endure; a special kind of all-for-me experience that runs the spectrum from trying shuffle dance moves in the kitchen to eating precisely what I want to watching TikToks in bed with the sound on to having minimal laundry work to choosing every bit of television I want to.

There are a million nice things about living like this, I would say alone but of course I do have an adorable/maniacal fur companion, and I think the very best thing is having my own moods. The way I feel emotionally is not in a constant state of flux depending on other circumstances and that alone is actually priceless.

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