decline.

no highway patrol

besides which, I maintained my speed.

took the advice of the big blue and slowed down and kept myself safe,

got there just in time to be timeless.

a whole day off.

a gift to me, myself and I.

Tub #2 by the river on a cool upper 60's day, fresh with sunshine.

just me....

I brought a good stash of food, a candle, journal, "The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying"

and intentions to simply shut up and listen.

For a good 10 minutes I had a fun standoff with a squirrel who was squirrilously atttempting to snipe my tortilla chips or trail mix or guacamole or chocolate or fresh raspberries....(yes, I told you it was a good stash of food)

He squirrely tried to rob me from every angle and I almost felt like rewarding him for his effort, but figured I'd have a full hour of squirrel fun on my hands if I did.

So, I thanked senor squirrelemer for his entertainment, then firmly informed him that the buffet was now closed and he would do well to go climb a tree or something. He threw in a 15 minute break before his next failed heist and then cheerfully gave up.

THEN it was just me.

riverside, warm in the submersion of mineral water...soft and embracing.

the swing of trees in a mild breeze and a dazzling, I must repeat, dazzling blur of sunlight scattering all over the surface of the water. beautiful.

It was mostly an hour of emptying out. I prayed for the right questions and the courage and strength and grace and wisdom and ease to live the answers.

When the hour was up, I sloughed off lazily to my car, taking all t h e t i m e i n t h e w o r l d.

I napped in the back of my subaru. drifted off, but woke to the sound of hard boots walking towards the car. No worries, it was only a couple out for a stroll, pre or post soak. but, I wasn't able to sleep again, so I sort of stared blankly and meditated, quite informally. really, I zoned.

then, I decided to telephone my father. I had called this morning, but he was sleeping. The person I spoke with told me he had had a rough morning of hallucinations. He was tearing the linens off the bed, tearing off his clothes, confused and agitated.

so, it was especially hard to call this afternoon.

but, I did. I know it's not about me right now. I know I have to let him know that he is not alone in this.

His voice was so low, I couldn't make out a word he said. though, he seemed fairly coherent and present.

but, he said he couldn't hear me and so I was talking very loudly into the phone.

I tried very hard to come up with things to say. I'm not a storyteller unless someone asks the right question, so I was just telling him dumb shit about how I spent some time at the river today and threw sticks for my dog who bounces like a kangaroo and I'm just thinking of you and I love you and all that and how are you doing today?

There wasn't a question I could ask him because what questions are there? What did you do today? no.

Do you remember...? no. Nothing future, nothing past. And what the hell is there to tell about his present moment? oh, yes darling daughter, I saw lots of scary people in my room and so I ripped all the sheets off of my bed and then I slept and now I'm talking to you though I can't hear a word you're saying and I don't understand any of it because you see my brain is deteriorating and this saddens me to no end because one thing I've always known to be true about myself, the one reliable fact about myself, is that I'm smart and clever and can think my way around anything, only suddenly, I can't even remember.... what? what? what? and I can't write or read and I think you are speaking, but I'm frustrated and agitated because I hear words, but I can't understand how they should come together and I'm trapped inside this dissolving mind and I'm disoriented and confused and i have no language anymore and I don't understand your language and I thought that my mind, wait, what?

it was hard.

I decided maybe he was agitated by the attempt so I suggested we end the call. Then he didn't or couldn't or forgot to hang up so I was left on the line like some flailing fish out of water. I didn't want to hang up, but I didn't get the impression we were talking anymore. It was unclear. Did I mention it was painful?

I spoke once and he sounded agitated when he said something about hanging up.

I waited for many more painful seconds of silence and then disconnected the call.

I imagined him still lying there, with the phone receiver still in his hand while he drifted off to the maze of his turbulent mindscape. Oh my God, dementia is a horrible horrible thing. I hope that it is not as bad to experience as it is to witness. Oh merciful God, Goddess.....please let it be an easy place for him to be.

It's several hours later and I wonder what he is doing now. I hope he is coherent and engaged in a pleasurable conversation with someone. Or, I hope he is asleep and in his dreams, playing tennis, laughing, dancing, smiling and surrounded by people who love him; people he loves.

Right now, this moment, me?

I am at an utter loss to define what I feel.

I want to scream but it feels like too much effort to summon the energy.

I want to be held. I want comfort. I want support. I want love. I want to not feel so all alone in this.

I don't want to call anyone, because it is a nonverbal support I'm craving.

I want just to fall and be caught. to cry and be soothed.

to just be, and

be okay about that.

No one scared of it or anything.

just that it's normal. I'm alive, human, mammal, animal.

And grief is grief, goddammit,

grief is grief.