A Week Later

I was an absolute slug on Friday. I forced myself to get dressed; then I forced myself to put on shoes. I had all intent and purpose to go out and return my library book, then pick up my free turkey in Portsmouth, RI. After eating a bowl of Progresso chicken soup, I gave in: took off my shoes and climbed under a soft blankie on the couch and took an hour's nap. I just felt exhausted. We were also committed to attend a special event at Fountain Street Fine Art Gallery in Framingham, MA, and were looking forward to seeing our good friends there. I just couldn't muster the strength to drive an hour and a half one-way to get there. So, we stayed in and rested. It was a week to the day that our grandson, Owen, died suddenly and unexpectedly. And, it had also been a week of other bad news, so no wonder I was tired. I was happy to give in to it and just take care of my Self for a change.

Yesterday, I got my ass out of the house fairly early and did what I had planned to do on Friday. In addition, I got hold of my friend, Debi (Roger the German Shephard's mom), and met her and another friend, Margie, for lunch. A Sam Adams' beer tasted good with my Spanish-baked cod for lunch after returning The Warden by Anthony Trollope (my bookclub's latest) to the library, and picking up the free turkey I won by spending $300 at Clement's Marketplace a while back. They finally had loaves of "stuffing bread" to make my mother's sausage stuffing for Thanksgiving, and of course, a box of Bell's Seasoning. I discovered last year while hosting Thanksgiving in South Carolina, that I couldn't buy stuffing bread or Bell's there. Unheard of!

Later that afternoon, after putting away my groceries, I took the pups for a much-needed walk to Fogland Beach and the adjacent "loop" road neighborhood. The wind has been howling all week. Between the wind's loud roaring and the waves crashing on shore, there is always a background noise that sounds worse than it really is. I expect to look out the window and see the trees bent in half from the sound of it, but they are just waving normally.

Once we reached the beach, that poor dead seagull was still lying where it has been for several days now. I never remember to bring anything with me to move it and obviously nobody else feels compelled to do anything about it either. So, I found a shrub branch closeby and covered it; holding it down with beach rocks. I said a little prayer for it and kept on walking.

Next, we came to a large boulder that had some stones resting on it. I was moved to create two towers for my grandsons: Aidan and Owen. Aidan's pile has four stones because he provided the foundation for our ability to emotionally deal a little more easily with the loss of Owen a year later. As devastated as we all are, we are not as crippled this time around. Our two little angels watch over us and have our backs as we continue to struggle to accept their loss.

Mattie Grace doesn't like walking in strong wind. She leads the way back to the road off the beach when it becomes too much for her. Reaching the shelter of tall bushes and trees is always a welcome relief from walking against strong wind, and having sand blown into the pups' ears that are driven up and back away from their little faces by it. We trotted along the dirt road and rounded the bend to the house being built on a lot I called my nephew, Paul, about several years ago when it was for sale.

The foundation walls are complete and their outsides sealed black to prevent water seepage. I walked to the top of the prepared path for the workers then looked out to imagine the view once this house is finished. It'll be a very big house and from the looks of the foundation, will be tall like ours is. The wrap-around view on three sides will be spectacular when it's finished. And, it's on the bay side, so it will be more protected from wind and water. I felt happy for whoever the new owners are and imagined what a happy life they will have there. I look forward to watching what the new house will ultimately look like. I remembered how much fun and what a challenge it was to build our house and make the million choices required to get it just right for us. I wondered what the taste was of these owners, and wait with anticipation for the unveiling over the coming winter months.

After finishing the loop, we ended up back at the beach where parasail-boarders were flying across the choppy, cold water. Are these people brave or crazy? I can't tell. They obviously have dry suits on, because the water they fall in up to their necks looks really, really cold. They must also be very fit, because this strong wind carries them along the water's surface leaving a wake behind their boards. They are magical looking, and I am happy to watch their antics; feeling no urge to try it myself.