September Mornings

Last week, I stood at the door of Ambleside Cottage, looking out over the lawn and trees. The squirrels were busy, and the jays were scolding. The air was crisp with a temp that is unusual for mid-September. I thought about the summer that had slipped away without much notice from me. Certain Man had watered flowers more often than he probably wanted to, and garden things had been sadly neglected. There were tomatoes that got quietly put onto the compost pile and even a couple of handfuls of lima beans that turned sour in the small bag in the fridge. (It was their own fault! Those beans of mine hardly produced enough at a time to even make a meal for CM and I! I would shell my paltry few and put them in the fridge, hoping to get some to add to them, and then, next thing I knew, they smelled funny. I did get my first two bags in the freezer just before I left for DC, but even so, the pickin’s have been slim!)

It’s been three months since Deborah had her bilateral mastectomy. The blood clots, the infections and the complications have made this recovery far longer than we had hoped. She ended up with a second surgery about six weeks ago, and she is healing well, but she just isn’t quite there yet. The days have been challenging for her, but there have also been glorious accomplishments. She finished her Bachelors Degree in Nursing (BSN) and she did it with a 4.0 grade average. (She wouldn’t tell you that, but I’m allowed! I’m her Mama!) She has actually started back to work at Delaware Hospice, but is only allowed to work from home because she is still under fairly stringent restrictions (no driving, no combing or washing her hair, no reaching up too far, no reaching out too far, no leaning forward or bending over, no driving). Fortunately, Delaware Hospice has been more than accommodating, and she has enjoyed getting back into the swing of things- at least in part.

Last week, anticipating this week’s daily trek to take 4-year old Stella to school, I started to walk over to Deborah’s house for the morning chores there. I had hoped to get a little used to the walk. The distance is somewhat similar. The terrain? Not so much. Leaving the back yard door, the walk is uphill almost all the way to her school. And there is mostly blacktop and sidewalk. It’s not that far, (only .2 of a mile) but I’m almost 69 years old, and I have two replaced knees and there is that crazy thing called “spinal stenosis” that wants to remind me when I’ve slept in an unfamiliar bed. Which causes me to sometimes have a peculiar gait.

Yesterday, Stella said to me, “Grammy, why do you sometimes wobble when you walk?” (Please note. She did not say “waddle!”)

I said, “Well, Stella-girl, Grammy’s back is kinda’ hurting today.”

“Yeah,” she said thoughtfully, “And you are really, really old, too!”

Yes, well. That, too! (She told me the other day that she thought I was “a hundred years old” so I guess that does make me a old. A little bit old, anyhow.)

September mornings are delightful here, though, in spite of the trek that makes me puff. I come into the alley behind Lem and Jessica’s house and the squirrels are scolding, the walnuts dropping, and the yellow flowers are blooming by the back fence. There are neighbors who don’t do well with their trash, and the other day I saw a city rat nudging through the garbage, but he went his way and I went mine. This morning the crows were scolding loudly about something and in this section of town there are lots and lots of trees providing shade and privacy. I’m not a city girl by any chance, but these mornings, so full of life and a bit chilly are invigorating.

Tomorrow morning, Lord Willing, after walking Stella to school, I plan to come back here, pack up and head back to Delaware and that Man I Love the Most, our little farm and the next door girlie that I still comb, and make sure that she has what she needs to live and move and have her being. I will feed her old cat, JuJu, and give him some Grammy treats and it will be so sweet. Tomorrow night, if plans carry, I will spend time with my sibs and their spouses (Except for Nel and Rose) and I’ve been looking forward to that with an almost ache.

Today in Ohio, our littlest grand is fighting the biggest battle of us all, and I watched a clip of my tall son cradling her to his chest while they both sang, “What a Wonderful World,” and I weep. There is so much about this old world that is wonderful, and I love these September mornings. My heart gives grateful praise, but along with that, this Grammy’s heart is heavy.

Please pray for our Ellie-girl.

1 Comment

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One response to “September Mornings

  1. atagrandma

    I am praying.

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