My husband and I were looking at shades of gray to paint the closet doors in his downstairs office. I leaned toward Harmony, Meditation, Serenity, and Solitude. He liked Stainless Steel. It’s his room, so he “won”, but I don’t see much difference in any of the grays. The color he chose is beautiful, soft, and light, and goes well with the white walls.
When my father died in an accident when I was 19, I realized there’s no need to search out excitement. It comes without notice, so savor and enjoy when life is calm. That’s my philosophy.
Yesterday, my son and four month old grandson came to visit. He, like any baby, is clear in his needs. What this little guy loves is the outdoors. If he cries, take him outside, and he is even more than usual, pure wonder. The birds were literally tweeting at him, and a male and female Meadowlark came to say Hello. He especially loves to smell and touch Pink Jasmine. He reaches with his tiny nose and sniffs, and gently fondles flowers and leaves with intricately sweet and tiny fingers and hands.
Later, after they left I was at the computer when I heard the clunk of my husband’s fall. He couldn’t get up and said to call 911 which I did. Suddenly our bedroom was filled with men and equipment. They got him into a chair and took him in an ambulance to the hospital. All tests show he is fine but clearly there is something wrong.
I sit here now thinking of the three little pigs and the houses they built. We like to think we built a brick house. It stands, and stands well, and for all of us, the wind may blow through. We don’t know. We can only open as it does.
One son came immediately, and the other we held off because of the little guy.
While we were in the emergency room, a call came in that a woman from Washington state was being brought in. She’d been vomiting and had a dry cough. The same man who accompanied Steve in the ambulance brought her in and stopped into our open enclosure to say Hi and see how we were doing.
All was peaceful and calm. None of the medical team wore masks, and the atmosphere was one of normalcy, peace, quiet, efficiency, and the essential nature of care and connection.
I sat there thinking how worried we’d been about getting the coronavirus, how so many things I enjoy have been cancelled, and here we were sitting in the emergency area of the hospital and all seemed relaxed with no worries at all. The woman from Washington state was wheeled past our somewhat curtained area, and though she was wearing a mask, we could hear her dry and incessant cough. Her family was with her, and I felt how we were all gathered together on a Saturday night.
As we left the hospital it was after midnight. A dirty and bedraggled man who appeared to be homeless was ushered into the emergency area by a young and sparkling clean fellow, one of the medical staff.
The ushered man was cheerful. He said, “I knew you knew I’d be back.”
And that’s how it is to spend an evening with saints on a Saturday night two nights before a full moon.