retreat.

here i am on retreat,

so,

why won't anything inside of me settle?

I'm held up, braced....

wanting just to go home.

is it the money I spent?

is it that now I'm all alone (but for Ursa)

an interesting morning.

car packed and on the road by about 8 am

Ursa and all

Off to Maggie Valley

and a psm tx.

tears.

talk of lineage.

and more tears.

the tx sank me into images of the gulf of mexico.

seeing her, feeling the changes of the day.

early morning sounds and scents, the beginning of light and birdsong.

mid morning and the arrival of voices, maybe a boat

into the day and the business of fun and sun

afternoon, later, the sun melting down the horizon.

skin, warm and taut,

salty.

gulls cry, sandpipers running.

then, images of me on retreat, art and sanctuary.

art and sanctuary.

here, in maggie valley or cherokee.

but, I wasn't quite sure I had the courage.

so I went to Soco Falls and sat and mostly smiled at Ursa's delight with the waterfall.

then I drove.

did i say I prayed for a miracle with my family? I did.

La called to share with me her visit to Florida to see Dad.

We spoke warmly. I felt cared for.

She acknowledged how one of us always tends to get separated from the herd, but that it isn't that we don't all love each other. We are all some part of Dad and sometimes that is hard to stay with.

Naming it.

It felt good.

I turned my car to drive south on 26. La suggested I call Li to check the weather since a depression is coming through Florida. She suggests that time is short. Probably less than a month and he will only decline further.

Meanwhile, this week has been good.

In person it is easier to know if he is present or not; if he is clear or confused.

I drive south.

I call Li; who is more staccato and brief with me. not unkind, but not warm. It's okay. I'm understanding that everyone is going through their own process. She tells me the weather report for the state. A tropical storm is blowing through the east coast of Florida and the gulf coast will have heavy rainfall.

I turn the car north.

I drive around and around. I don't know where I need to be.

I feel like I can't go home.

I need to retreat somewhere.

the car is packed. Ursa is with me.

Grief is in my pocket.

art and sanctuary. art and sanctuary.

a little corner somewhere to be.

to draw, to write, to maybe play music.

to listen to rain.

to grieve.

and here I am. after driving all the way back to asheville.

walking around Amboy park; hoping for dogs for ursa to play with (to no avail)

then driving around in circles and circles.

then, back to Maggie Valley and stopping in at motels and creekside cottages looking for the place to be

then my mind gets busy getting busy and I start wondering why I would pay money to be so close to home when I have a perfectly good home and I think I still can't quite figure that part out except that I feel like this is about #1 listening. trusting my guidance. and this is an act of doing just that.

#2 getting that I'm worth it for goddsakes. A night away. a little space. trusting the money around that.

still. at the check in I hesitate and before I know it I'm confessing my ambivalence to Charlotte at the front desk.

She is SHE I think, because she says I can just stay for a few hours and if I have to leave she'll give me my money back. (though, probably part of the tough part about not being able to settle in....there is still a CHOICE to make) She takes $10 off the room to soften the choice. I feel held by this. grateful.

I stay. here I am in the Meadowlark Motel. ursa and I had a good time in the "backyard" with the gorgeous creek (which, I suspect is a finger or vein of the Ocanaluftee) and stick throwing. She's happy, so I'm happy.

Then the rain began so here we are inside.

I watched dumb TV for an hour just because I never see TV and I want a little hit of hypnotic sleep.

But only a dumb hour. That's permissable.

but, now I'm writing and the nervousness is settling in.

what is it?

is it because I'm away from home? (illusion)

is it because now I'm here with myself. Ursa is resting. All the feelings are here.

The reality is.

Dad is dying. His death is imminent.

Today I've talked with mom, La, Li, and Ju. (I like writing their names like this).

Will I have the opportunity to see him again?

He is ever changing. Today I did not call him because I was told to avoid it. Today he is having hallucinations.

That would be unbearable to witness, i think.

Ju told me he signed a DNR; of course he did...he's in hospice.

But, that still struck me like an arrow.

He will die in that bed.

Will I see him again?

Who will I see if I get there in time? Will he see me?

What comforts me is that he is happiest where he is. He is being genuinely cared for. he is not disturbed by medical tests and procedures and treatments. He is being fed good food. He has his own room and it is not like a hospital. It is a home. And people are caring for him; letting him be. not questioning or challenging his right to choose his path.

this comforts me.

and still, I am filled to the brim with so much sorrow.