YellowLotus of Bliss

[ismo]

Compost gives one a reason for living. I really haven't felt like posting for the last couple of days. The Duchess stopped in to visit Mother, and found her in the most confused state yet. It was very disturbing to hear about. The nurse manager was there, and after they discussed some care issues, she brought up the idea of palliative care and said it was something we would have to consider in the "near future." Well, we all knew that. It's not as if it came as a surprise. The Duchess thinks one reason she said that is that Mother is still having much difficulty eating. She falls asleep during meals, she has trouble getting the food into her mouth, and mostly she just doesn't care about eating. The caregivers sit with her and assist her, but if a person is either asleep or just not interested, you can't make them eat. But whether it's a surprise or not, it still sent us all into a tailspin of grief, each in our own way. I haven't been sleeping, and that certainly didn't help. Later the Duchess kind of walked that one back a bit and pointed out that Mother doesn't need palliative care right NOW--it's just something to think about. My experience is that when nurses tactfully say "in the near future," what they usually mean is, "This person should have been in hospice YESTERDAY . . . but I don't want to freak you out." But today, the Duchess visited again, and found Mother much better and able to have a real conversation, albeit one that occasionally slid off into the tall weeds. So the Duchess has revived hope that the train isn't coming yet. However, I still feel that we have seen the light at the end of the tunnel--and as my father used to say, "And it's an oncoming freight train!"

I had another five-hour night on Tuesday, and wasn't good for anything yesterday, even though it was a beautiful day. The Sparrowhawk tried to encourage me, but I turned most of his suggestions down. I did allow myself to be lured into the back yard for awhile--long enough to shovel the finished compost out of one side of our wonderful giant composter and spread it over the raised bed. It is so amazing and completely satisfactory that all that stinky garbage goes into the barrel and comes out as soft, fluffy, precious black dirt. It made me feel that perhaps life was worth living after all. At least SOMETHING I did came out right. Antonio Machado wrote a poem called "Last Night As I Was Sleeping," whose second stanza is often quoted:

Last night as I was sleeping,
I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.

That is indeed marvelous, but I think he should have included a verse about composting.

Today I woke up with a headache after still not enough sleep, but decided to surprise myself by having a good day for a change. Hot shower, coffee with an extra shot, "Badlands" by Bruce Springsteen and "Stronger" and "Walk Away" by Kelly Clarkson. Then I cleaned the bathroom. Mr. Science rather unexpectedly said he was coming to help pack up Mother's former apartment on Friday rather than Saturday, so we're going then too. And I hate to go away without cleaning the bathroom. It's so much nicer to come home to a clean one. Then Queenie called to discuss the situation, which was a bit of a setback as far as trying to cheer up went. She quoted me as a source of wisdom. Apparently I once told her, "We suffer because we're moving through time." I didn't remember that. She made me feel useful, anyway.

Later in the afternoon, we went to the garden store and got bags and bags of mulch for the flower beds and extra garden soil to top up the raised beds. I spread it around, and set up my bean tripod again. I didn't have time to buy seeds, but I had some bean and pea seeds and a packet of lettuce mix left from last year. I planted them all. Maybe they won't come up, but if I don't put them in the ground, they certainly won't. The two new nightgowns I ordered for my mother arrived. I marked the labels with her name, and I'll take them to her tomorrow.

As some frosting on the day, the Nipper called. It was his birthday, and he'd been hauling our gift into the house--it's the weight bench and barbells he asked for. We got to sing him the birthday song and say goodnight to Raptor. That in itself would make it the best of days.