I Don't Even Know Where to Begin

The last time I posted was Friday, February 21st. I picked the husband up from the airport that night and then headed back at 4 a.m. the following morning to catch a flight from here to Salt Lake City and then to Maryland. I arrived in Baltimore at 4 p.m., picked up the rental car, and drove over to the eastern shore to see my mother-in-law at the hospice facility. Despite the heavy pain meds, she was still lucid enough to recognize me and call me by name.

I stayed with my father-in-law at their house. He and I took turns sitting with her at hospice. When I wasn’t with her, I was running errands, cooking, and helping to get things sorted. My mother-in-law’s best friend and writing partner, Laura, was a huge help. The two of us were able to get a handle on what the most pressing needs were. I told my father-in-law that I would stay as long as I was needed, but after some discussion, we decided that I should head home at the end of the week. I’m needed here, too, and there was only so much more I could do in Maryland.

I dropped the rental car off on Saturday morning and my college roommate, Marcia—who lives about 20 minutes from the airport—came and picked me up so I could spend the night at her house. We had a great visit Saturday afternoon. She took me to the airport yesterday morning so I could fly home. I got back to Montana around 2 p.m. My mother-in-law is still holding on, although I know it won’t be much longer.

Meanwhile, back in Montana . . . early in the week, the husband responded to a medical call for one of our neighbors. A lovely woman who lived a few doors down the road from us had a massive hemorrhagic stroke and died. I will miss her—she used to buy eggs from us and I always gave her my extra zucchini so she could make zucchini bread.

Toward the end of the week, the husband woke up one morning to find that Rusty, our 15 year-old dog, could no longer stand up or walk. Rusty had been declining over the past year and I knew this would probably be his last winter with us. The husband took him to the vet and had him put to sleep. Lila seems to be doing okay, although she is a bit more subdued than usual.

And that same night, the husband went out to the chicken coop and discovered the the big rooster had keeled over dead. That rooster was old—7 or 8 years old by now, which in rooster years is ancient—and I’d been expecting this for a while. Baby, my Buff Orpington rooster, is now a year old and clearly ready to take his place as king of the coop. (I know, “Baby” is a horrible name for such a handsome rooster, but that’s how I think of him and he is stuck with the name.)

I have to say, the circle of life is starting to feel more like a centrifuge. I’d really like it to stop so I could regain some footing. I’m done with 2020 and it’s only the beginning of March.

The week had some bright spots. I think I mentioned that my in-laws live about an hour from Washington College, our alma mater. I’ve stayed in touch with my favorite college biology professor, Dr. Donald Munson, since graduation, and he came down to Easton to have lunch with me:

I so enjoyed seeing him. Even after 30 years, he still calls me “kiddo,” like he did when I was a student. And he was wearing an Old Bay tie, which made me giggle.

[The husband, having been a sociology major, remembers that Dr. Munson did not like it that the general biology survey course for non-majors—which the husband took—was lovingly referred to as “Baby Bio.” I was a biology major, so I took just about every class offered, including one spectacular semester of Parasitology, which is the reason I will not eat sushi.]

I also found an hour to visit Quilt Vine, a small quilting store south of Easton. I’d been there before when house-sitting for my in-laws. They have a whole room devoted to nothing but crabs—this is the eastern shore, after all—and I bought the kit for this appliqué:

The appliqué can be used in various ways, but they had used it on an apron. I thought that was cute idea. I can always use more aprons, and this will be a nice memento of the time I spent in Maryland, which is where I met the husband, after all. And I’ll get to try out some of the appliqué stitches on my big Janome sewing machine.

So I am back in Montana, it’s March, and I have got to regain some equilibrium. We will go to the shelter soon and adopt another dog that needs a good home. The husband is busy building concrete sea walls down on Flathead Lake, as they all have to be done before the lake level comes up at the beginning of April when the dam opens. The hydraulic lift for the garage has been built and shipped from New York and will probably arrive some time this week. I’ll have to start seeds soon. I brought my mother-in-law’s gardening hat home with me to wear this summer when I am digging in the dirt. We will get through this.