A New Journey

I used to think that death would be exciting. Not in a thrill-ride kind of way, with goose-bumps and anticipation. Not exhilaration, but startle. Like when the movie villain appears so suddenly that you jump out of your skin a little. It’s not unexpected; you know he’s there, hiding in the closet, but somehow it still takes you by surprise.
A death!
I know better now. In the last week I have discovered that sometimes death takes its time. It is a slow, meandering process, measured in the drips of an IV and the sound of time running out.
I wonder, how many breaths make up a lifetime? If I knew my number would it make each more precious? Or would the number stagger me, make me feel rich enough to waste them away?
A death.
Instead of the movie villain, in this instance, I think death was a welcome friend. It quietly crept into the room this morning and escorted W’s father on. He has set out on a new journey, equipped all the knowledge and wisdom he has gained in his nearly eighty years on earth.
He will be missed.

tap tap tapity tap

GW is at day-camp all week and I am hard at work on another writing project. It will be quiet around here for a day or three.

How to Turn a Chore Into an Adventure

We got up early, both to beat the heat and to heighten the sense of adventure. Everything seems more exciting if you have to get up early for it.
It’s a fact.
Though, I think someone forgot to inform my girl. When I woke her at 6:00, GW cracked one bleary eye and said, “humnazzzzzz”. Then rolled herself up in her comforter and turned her back to me.
I replied with a whispered, “We’ll stop for donuts” and then had to run to keep up with my eager child.
Everything seems more exciting if donuts are involved.
We arrived at the farm just a bit after seven, fingers still sticky from our sweet morning treat, and the hunt began. We were looking for rows of green in a sea of yellow.
“Look Mom, over there!”
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Betty, the farmer’s wife, told me that a leaky irrigation pipe had rendered these few rows too muddy to harvest. The beans were ours for the picking. Betty told me to just rip up the whole plant and stuff it in a lawn bag. I could pull the beans off at home.
GW and I set to work, pulling plants from the dirt while keeping a weather eye out for snakes. When she got tired, she climbed into the back of the car and started picking beans from the vine.
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Four lawn bags later, we headed home, choosing a new way for fun. When we came to a river with no bridge, I asked GW to scout around for a fairy we could ask for help.
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One came, but not the kind she was expecting.
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Safely on the other side, we continued our journey pausing only to race a train down the road.
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It won.
But we did too.
We arrived home satisfied in the knowledge that an ordinary Thursday had been transformed into an adventure.
Up next? The dishes!