Perceptions

Moving to a new area brings exciting new places to explore, shop and visit.  New friends open our eyes and hearts as we choose to know them better.  Yesterday one of our neighbors hosted an intimate little afternoon gathering for just this purpose.  It was our first chance to talk at length with either of them.  A brief introduction followed by an occasional wave as we walked our dogs along the streets was the extent of previous encounters.  The previous occupants of our home were there.  They too,  are dealing with the challenges of down-sizing a household.  This home that seems so tiny to us was the "big one" from which they moved.  She laments the "large closets" that seem so cramped to me.  Many of the things we love about this house are the very same things they miss.  He mentioned the view from the breakfast area windows with heavy nostalgia.  They miss watching the deer frolic in the yard early in the morning.  It's early this morning and still dark outside.  I wonder if the view of the twinkling lights across the hills stirred their spirit in the night.   We discussed our plans to finish the big-boy-playhouse and addition of a pool beside it.  Landscaping challenges unique to the hill country were compared and we indulged in our host's beautiful back yard.  Sitting beside the pool on the patio overlooking the outdoor fireplace with treetops just over the fence, it was hard to imagine any neighbors nearby.  That is, until the siren from the fire station erupted just over a block away.  No view of the emergency vehicles interrupted the serenity, but the sound had broken the spell.

Lively Colors

At times I'm caught up in the daily details of life and overlook some of it's glory.  After months of political bombardment by the media, personal discussions and general unrest in the nation; the election finally was completed and we can get back to day to day life with one uncertainty resolved.  Now the media has a new story to chase and I find myself sickened by the news I hear everywhere.  It sort of makes me want to disconnect all news and find a quiet cave somewhere.

Health issues suffered by the men in my life are a constant concern.  Driving Papa to the Ozarks to spend the next couple of months with Brother and Sis-In-Law was a reminder of his fragile health and fading mental state.  A stop to overnight with a cousin demonstrated to this leg of the family that he is effectively gone from them.  Descendents from his only sister remembered the "Unk" who was always their hero.  Some old photos were passed around and his eyes were interested but failed to recognize any of the occupants posed. One photo included a proud soldier in uniform with a pretty young woman, Papa with his first wife, soon after their marriage.  He did not recognize either or remember seeing the picture.

View from screened porch

Ol' Abner did not accompany us to the Ozarks.  He traveled as far as the Arkansas Capitol City to finish his dental work.  On that visit, he arranged to transfer all his medical care to Texas.  Access to oxygen delivery is critical to his well being.  An appointment was scheduled in our new area to begin that process, and it conflicted with the planned trip to Dogpatch.

Arrival on the mountain where we lived for several years, was a joy to  my eyes.  As we crossed the Arkansas River before beginning the ascent into the mountains, I advised Papa to look closely at the foliage.  In the past, when it was in full glory there, the leaves in Dogpatch were pretty much gone.   I was thrilled to see the fall colors in full bloom throughout our journey.

A peace   enveloped my spirit when I ventured onto the screened porch of our former home on the mountain.  Something about  sitting in the treetops looking at a sunrise brings joy to my spirit. On the solitary drive home my reverie was one of gratitude for so many of the day to day blessings I enjoy.  Sadness at changes that are  predictable will not be indulged.  I will take joy in the unexpected flashes of glorious color   expected  to be long gone!      

Front yard foliage in our "former" home

Slowly Fading

We have Papa here for a few days.  At 92, with the 93rd birthday approaching, he is more childlike than ever.  When a couple of months pass between visits with him, the mental deterioration is evident.  We had lunch with Sis and Brother in Law earlier this week and retrieved Papa in the process.  He willingly uses the walker that was anathema just a year ago.  He always asks us to simply order for him at a restaurant and gets lost going from one room to the next.  Still, he is ever cheerful and appreciative of our care.

It's painful when he cannot remember many of the good times of the past.  When we discuss events from a decade or more before, he will look with a bit of a blank stare, and then pretend to remember if prompted.  He didn't recognize Son, but when introduced, he seemed to remember the person who now had little resemblance to the youngest grandson buried in his memory.  After a few moments of quiet conversation, the spark seemed to ignite.  Last night he was familiar with Son and Daughter in Law.

Sis and Brother in Law have spent many hours over the last month with photos and talks reminding him of his long and fruitful life.  I had hung pictures we brought from his home at the lake in the bedroom where he now sleeps.  Upon his arrival, I escorted him back to become acquainted with the place where he will sleep for the next week.  He stared a long time at the portraits of his three children and families, one of my mother with him when they were first married, and another taken on a trip with all the adult children after she was gone.  On another wall he looked at some landscape photos taken on the shore and grounds of the home he enjoyed for nearly fifty years.  We talked about the pictures and he interacted a little, but I cannot be sure if he was remembering or humoring me.  Sister is sure he remembers the things she discusses with him, I guess I'm not so lucky.