We had been talking about this outing for awhile, and it proved successful! Not easy to find a trek a two year old can manage, let alone one that culminates in a beautiful waterfall. Less than an hour south on the nature highway (AKA the Natchez Trace Parkway), we found Jackson Falls. Someone had conveniently paved the trail down to the bottom of the falls, making it easy and safe for all of us to navigate. There was wading, stone throwing, climbing and sitting on the rocks, and chatting with others who came for the same reasons. Then we stopped at Puckett’s Grocery on the way back for a lunch during which (two grandmothers and) two little boys ate lunch and ice cream in their wet shoes, and caused no scenes. Fun! Classic Sunday drive.
I drive to and fro on a lovely wind-ey road that is fun, challenging, fast-paced, and well travelled. Everybody stays on his or her own side, and we all clip along at speed limit, enjoying the pastures, horses, and mansions that comprise the scenery. And despite the lack of a shoulder lane or bike lane, lots of cyclists also enjoy this eight-or-so mile stretch. I’m very aware and considerate of bike riders, BUT aren’t they obliged to follow traffic rules, the same as cars? More than once, I’ve experienced a rider coasting out onto the road from a side road on the right without stopping and looking for oncoming traffic. YIKES! Right in front of me! I was forced to swerve out into the oncoming lane to avoid hitting the cyclist, and of course happy to do so, but had there been another car in said lane, it could have been ugly. PLEASE, bike riders. STOP at intersections where there is a STOP sign, I might add, and quit scaring me like that. Geez.
(Photo: Pleasant Valley Road, approaching Mount Mansfield, Vermont)
Sometimes there is no silver lining. Sometimes it’s NOT all good.
Thinking of a friend’s mentally challenged nephew who is choosing to opt out of programs that would undeniably help him, it seems to me that he’s actively working his way towards homelessness. It’s such a Catch-22: he’s too mentally ill or developmentally challenged to realize the consequences of his actions, or to adapt his behavior to actions that would help him survive with his challenges, in a supportive environment. He’s already been evicted from another family home in which people gave him a chance to get started in life. I’m feeling sad for all concerned, particularly this man-child whose life will most certainly change for the worse and may result in his, again, being on the street, vulnerable, and with little to no skills for dealing with reality.
And for my friends and family who are trying to cope with the grief of having lost a son, a brother, a friend just three weeks ago, there’s no silver lining there, either. There are only tears, disbelief, inexpressible sadness, pain, and sickening despair that accompanies the realization that we won’t see him again. The finality of death. The longing for it not to be so. The WHY? The WHY? You think the rawness must soften somehow, but it is still there with each wave of pain. This was a tragic end to the life of a beautiful young man. We hope that he knew how much he was loved, and that he is at peace.
Here’s a shout out for living in the country. Returning home is a deep cleansing breath, a lovely ride, and being greeted by a happy four-legged friend is such a joy. There’s something to be said for LIVING in a place of quiet and peace, rather than having to travel to it on weekends and such. There are the garden, the wildlife, the good neighbors, the woods, the serenity.
However, the drawback is all the DRIVING. Every day. Pretty close to an hour each way, for heaven’s sake! In Atlanta, I was sooooooooo grateful for my teeny little commute, and I had so much sympathy for those multitudes who drove in from the ‘burbs. My body doesn’t appreciate all the sitting time in the car! I get home too stiff and tired for exercise, and resentful because of all the walking or whatever I could have been doing instead of driving my car.
Guess I better figure out a solution. Guess it’s payback for living two and a half miles from work in Atlanta for five years. Guess I ought to be grateful to have a job. And a car. And a great place to live.
OK. I’
ll shut up.
Going on record as predicting a HUGE career for a young country singer/songwriter named Chris Janson. Caught part of a show the other night and learned he’s sold out Puckett’s Grocery in Leipers Fork seventeen shows running! He’s got a down to earth personality, a record deal, an amazing voice and range, combined with smart modern lyrics and a classic country sound. Check out his myspace page and see what you think.
After the last 2 weeks, still feeling sad and easily moved to tears, it’s hard to think what to write next. Everything is trivial. So please excuse whatever blather I come up with; I’m just trying to get back on the horse. Julia, thanks for making it OK to write in bullets format when under duress.
++ Jude soaked his cast in the bath this evening, and couldn’t give me an answer explaining why he did it. It might have had something to do with trying to wash his hair with the SHOWER, the knucklehead. I had to take it down to bare skinny shriveled arm in order to get the “sugar tong” cast and its lining dry (hairdryer), and wash and dry the ACE bandage that’s the top layer. Big bonus was getting to wash his poor little arm. Had to line the still-wet cast with paper towels, afraid to leave it off any longer. Here’s the conversation:
Jude: The doctor’s gonna be mad at you for taking my cast off.
Me: I’m not scared of him!
Jude: He’s pretty big…..
++ Speaking of horses, I did five hours of volunteer training two weeks ago at SaddleUp!, and haven’t mustered the energy to go over there and help with sessions. There’s a big list of needs for next week in an email, and I ought to sign up for something and fulfill my commitment. It is such good work, and the organization is truly amazing in its dedication to both the children and the animals who carry them willingly, patiently, graciously. The horses receive impeccable care, the barn is immaculate, everything to the highest standards.
++ We had a hint of fall today, and tonight temps are supposed to get into the 50’s. Yay, for me. Ideal weather. There have been some lovely and amazing skies lately, too (they make me think of Ben K), and I’ve grabbed some dramatic images on the way home in the late afternoon. The summer heat deters me from outdoor fun, except swimming, taboo this season because of Jude’s cast. So I’m making plans for outings when it cools off for real: downtown to the parks and bridges to walk around (sorry we didn’t go see the dragon boat races today), Centennial Park, explore East Nashville, art galleries in the arcade.
There it is. All I got. Short ride on the hobby horse.
Our dear friend Ben died on Sunday, and I have been spending a lot of time with his family this week, every evening spent talking, weeping, remembering, eating dinners brought by friends and neighbors. It occurred to me that we were, in our own way, embracing the Jewish rite of shiva–it’s a week-long ritual of grieving and bereavement, of suspending the routines of life, “sitting” rather than doing. When I looked up information about shiva, I learned that we’re not really following the rules (no baths or showers, immediate family only, mirrors covered), but it’s been working for us anyway.
Ben was an exceptional person, who was loved by everyone who knew him. People say that, but in his case, it is no exaggeration. Kind, gentle, hysterically funny, brilliant, loving, handsome, insightful, Ben has been described (by a child) as half kid and half adult. His photographs are beautifully composed and numerous. Art work he created as a child and teenager was detailed and skilled from the very first drawings. Before he was two years old, he made a perfectly obvious picture of a mother and baby. His mother always labeled his artwork with the description he gave her in his own words, and that one is captioned, “his mother holding him.” His incredibly loving family created a young man capable of the most profound nurturing, and he was my grandson’s part-time “manny” for the first two years of his life. Ben was a friend to my sons and daughter, and a friend to me.
I have been privileged to be a part of these gatherings of friends, family, neighbors, people of all ages who came to honor Ben’s memory and to try and comfort each other by being present and loving. I’ve sat and held his mom in my arms, cried with his father and brothers and sister in law. We have told stories about Ben, shared laughter and tears, been grateful for his life, and remain devastated by his untimely, tragic, inexplicable death. People coming and going, sharing meals, comforting one another, created an atmosphere in which to grieve this huge loss. Tomorrow we’ll have a memorial service that will celebrate Ben’s life and, were we to follow tradition, mark the end of this time of formal grieving. But I will continue to visit and cry and just be with Ben’s family as often as I can. Sitting shiva.
Broken boy news: the cast has gotten soaked at least once in the past few weeks, and, well, it’s still working to immobilize the arm. We really don’t want to get our noses too close to it, though, and we’re going to request a new one next visit to the doctor. He can do pretty much anything with the cast, and it contributes some significant resistance training for that left shoulder. I took Jude to his last ortho appointment 
the end of July, got to talk with the doctor, and looked at the xray, and seeing a real picture of the fracture was not pleasant. He’ll be in the cast until mid-September at least. Jude’s adapted, and his clever Mom even thought to get him a clipboard for school to hold his paper while he writes. I hope the school has an occupational therapist to offer other suggestions and adaptive equipment if needed. As we expected, it’s been a long summer.
I………don’t like raw broccoli or squash, even in salad, or raw cabbage (unless it’s really good slaw).
……….have a she-bear inside me that rares up if I think Jude’s in jeopardy.
……….am not smart enough for my iPhone. Not yet, anyway.
……….drive a car for ten years, if it lasts that long, and have no need for a luxury auto. Doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy a ride in one.
……….turn the water off while I brush my teeth, and almost always remember my reusable shopping bags.
……….am giving up wearing shoes that torture my feet, even if they are cute (the shoes).
……….LOVE my new job. And my fabulous daughter in law.
……….and did I mention I love taking photographs?
My former neighbor’s father died suddenly this week, and I’ve been thinking about him, as well as feeling such grief for my friend and her family. This guy was an unforgettable character, larger than life and full of life. I would always smile when I noticed his old white car in the parking lot, because he would often drive up from Florida to Atlanta, just for a weekend, to see his grandchildren. In his early seventies, with white hair and beard, he was sprightly and slim, friendly and easygoing. He’d have a kayak tied on top of the little SUV, and always had a project or an outing planned for his grandson. When his granddaughter was born, the man was absolutely gaga for this little girl. I just watched a video that was made in May, of him and the kids, that was so incredibly sweet, and illustrated his love for those kids and his (favorite) daughter, his ability to be fully in the present, and his generous and kind nature. My eyes teared up, and I gave a silent homage to a very good man.
