Today 15Oct2023

This is Monday morning, and Sunday is primarily a blur and will be hard to describe. My mind is shaken, not stirred, and thoughts and memories are more like bubbles in champagne–but more ephemera than effervescent. Last night, I got lost in the dark in the bedroom but was able to use Alexa to turn on a light–that used to happen to Susie. I still pick the wrong words, and while the colors have returned to the world, I seem to be in a dream. The tides of sadness come and overwhelm, then recede only to return again. Because Susie was at the hummingbird house for more than a year and six months in various hospitals and facilities, I do not miss Susie at the house (the Volvo Cave). I often find myself thinking I need to see Susie at the hummingbird house, and then it comes crashing down on me that she is not here anymore, and I will not hear her speak again, except in my dreams.

The morning, now a distant blur, started with me getting started at 8ish and warming up some bagels. I made a pot of coffee. Linda brought me a bagel, an NYC one from Zabar’s, while I wrote the blog. I published it after a few hours of work.

Next, I decided to clear some of Susie’s room at the hummingbird house. The funeral director I met on the day of Susie’s passing from Treadgill’s in Beaverton said there was no reason to hurry, and I decided to keep to that advice.

Others feel they must control and bring order; I understand that belief and demand. It is not me. I feel like the journey (यात्रा) I have been on that lasted two to three years has now come to an end. I am at the docks, and the baggage is being unloaded. I will have to travel to my next place, and that first step will start a new journey, and I am tired and worn. I see myself at the docks, in my mind, resting at a sushi bar (very fresh at the docks) and enjoying a light meal with hot tea. I am not ready to start the next journey. So forgive me if the arrangements and process are slow. I am on the docks and unprepared to take control and start with that first step.

Returning to the narrative, after getting a shower and dressing, we boarded Air Volvo; I unloaded the games from the cargo hold and headed to Beaverton on our way, indirectly, to the hummingbird house. Is a damp, overcast day, but just mist–almost a sunny day for the Pacific Northwest (PNW) in the fall-winter-spring season (while the people of the PNW often chafe when forced into binary gender–our weather is rains or not rains, binary). Our color is gray, but the greens are bright, and roses still dot everywhere, including mine. Heavy with water, the leaves are yellow and red but still clinging to the trees. Soon, we will be buried in wet and thick leaves–our annual plague of drain-choking and lawn-smothering leaves. It is not a joy, as it is in other places, to rake the leaves (and they will not burn)–here, the leaves are heavy and wet.

We arrive at Tom’s Pancake House with no incidents and enjoy a fine repast of standard breakfast items. Linda has French Toast with me selecting homemade corn beef hash. Linda is not a fan of the stuff but is surprised by the high-quality product I enjoy. The PNW food places that survived COVID-19 have picked up their quality (and prices). It was an excellent breakfast, and we reboarded Air Volvo.

Next, we arrived without incident at the hummingbird house. Susie is not there, but we left the room unchanged, and you still can feel her memory resting in the room, but it is now just a memory. Susie is not there. Tears fill our eyes. I cannot take down the room surface items, just one more day, and we instead unload the medical items, blankets, and other paperwork items on drawers. I later called Dondrea to see if we have a place that our church knows or supports that could use Susie’s vast supply of clothing and coats. Dondrea will check and get back to me. Again, there is no real need to rush; it is not time for that journey–just one more day, please.

Leaving the room intact, we have the Volvo nearly full. We unload the blankets and other items and leave the medical items. I collect the other various medical items and, after some twisting, get them into the cargo hold. They are delivered to Goodwill, and the commode is rejected, but the rest is received, including the considerable shower bench. Linda dissembles the commode and recycles the metal bits, and we toss the rest in the trash container. We are left with one significant metal bit that does not fit in my containers, but we will grab some computer gear and send it to the local recycling place on Monday.

I have a wooden crate that needs to be made into smaller pieces, and Linda gets to pound it to get it to disassemble. She enjoys that. I contacted Jennifer, the weekday nursing aid, and she will work with the Allegiance team to pack the room.

I rest a bit as I tire easily. The emotions and the dissociation feeling were draining. I do not nap, but I read, try to find my way, and paint some figures. I never moved the painting stuff to my office as it is a mess, and I never took the time to better organize it. That time will come now. So I am painting between messes, but it is relaxing. It has always been an escape to paint and build models. You can’t worry or think or plan with a brush in your hand or a piece being glued.

Still, on East Coast Time, Linda was hungry, and I headed towards local food–an old American-Italian place, Nonna Emilia Ristorante Italiano. Linda has the sausage with peppers, and I do the gnocchi (having meated out last dinner). It was a nice dinner, and I tasted this one.

There was a short video, thank you, Steve H, for posting it, of Leslie Nielsen doing a crazy Police Academy routine, and it made me laugh hard. Much of the colors appeared again in the world. Here.

I painted some more and rested. Linda went to bed early as she will be working here on EDT. I called David S after an invitation, and we just chatted. A good distraction. I went to bed late and slept until 8AM.

Thanks for reading.

Aside: Our experience at the facility could not have been better. If you wish to know where and what for other loved ones who need a good and safe place. Please consider Allegiance Senior Care LLC, 9925 SW 82nd. Ave. Portland (Tigard), OR 97223; phone (503) 246-4116.