The world hit me
square on this morning with a myriad of problems: two health agencies with such
similar names that I’ve paid the wrong one, and the one I should have paid sent
me to a collection agency. Lord deliver me from that harassment. Think I got it
sorted out, but my bank account shrank in the process. A computer back-up
program wanted me to renew, but on investigation I found they hadn’t backed up
my files in 224 days and won’t make restitution. Bills I thought I’d paid—a food
magazine subscription and AARP; a survey to fill out about my primary care
physician; a discussion with the home health care people wherein I offered to
part amicably and they said, “No. Let us see what we can work out.” But then I
didn’t hear from them again. And that’s how the morning went—a whole bunch of
none of my own work done.
This afternoon
made up for it. A visit with the surgeon earned me an excellent report—he’s
pleased with my progress. He relieved me of some burdens—now I can cautiously
bend to put on my left shoe, though the rest of my life, he warned, I should
not push my luck. My confession that I am awkward and clumsy and nervous using
a cane brought forth, “You’ll never hear me advocating for a cane. A walker is
much safer.” If I use it longer than usual, well and good. He says one day
walking will just happen. (I demonstrated later that it has not happened yet—pushing
a grocery cart made my leg buckle and I limped.) Finally, he said I look better,
have more facial expression. The whole thing made my day.
Betty and I went
to Belk for our weekly Wednesday night dinner—I know, I know. It’s Tuesday.
Food was good—delicious spinach bites, fried kibbeh good but not outstanding, a
really good tabouli, and nice wine. It’s a chain restaurant, and I didn’t sense
a chef in the back hand-preparing our meals.
A nice ending to
the evening: usually I have to nag Jacob to take out my garbage, and we both end
up angry. Tonight, one reminder and a bit of patience on my part, and he came
out and announced, “I am so happy right now.” It seems he was writing a letter
to his girlfriend. After he took my garbage out, he came back and read it to me—pretty
darn eloquent. If he can do that at ten, the girls of his generation better
watch out. He’s cute, charming, and now I find out he can write. And how many
boys read their love letters to their grandmothers? I am blessed indeed.
You know what? I
echo his statement. “I am so happy tonight.”
6 comments:
If the day ends well and we can go to bed happy, then that's one of the best days of all. Hope you have an even better day tomorrow!
You are very lucky. I seldom hear from my grandchildren. And one lives only 15 minutes away! Usually I hear when she needs money. Two live down in Miami and I haven't heard from them in over ten years and have NEVER heard from my great-grandson. My son doesn't call or visit (he lives in North Richland Hills with his mother) but he will come down when I need help and visited me every day when I was in hospital. My daughter Leone ALWAYS checks on me and frequently takes me to lunch when she is in town and her boy friend checks in on me and calls on occasion to take me to dinner when she is out of town. They live 15 minutes from me. Leone is also my Legal Guardian and handles everything that the VA-appointed Fiduciary Guardian doesn't---he pays all my bills and also calls to check up on me on occasion. Whatever is left over from my VA allotment he invests and has really built up a savings account (way into the high five figures) and if I want to do something, he usually pays the bill. Even, I might add, to encouraging to take a trip to Israel with my agent and her husband Rabbi Jack when they flew over to spend Passover with her family. When I told him how much it would cost to fly over, he encouraged me to go and said that I needed to fly first class due to my health and the tickets for that round trip would be $7,000 and much more for staying a month! When the doctor, back in October, finally gave me permission to fly out to visit my friend in MA, he also agreed with my daughter that I needed to fly first class and made arrangements for me to have someone meet the plane with a wheelchair to take me from one place to the next. Sometimes, when he reads a book that he thinks I might like, he sends it to me. He lives over in Plano. Otherwise, I live alone---my last good friend with whom I did things, died from a brain tumor eleven years ago. So . . . well, you get the picture.
Thanks, Marcy. I love your philosophy about going to bed happy. I do most days. So blessed. Hope you do too.
Randy, I've had the impression you live a life rich with friends on Facebook, but I know that doesn't make up for people in person. I don't think most younger people realize even though we are busy with writing, painting in your case, cooking and whatever, we get lonely. I'm struggling lately with the recognition that the people who used to come by for happy hour or to sit at my Sunday table seem to have forgotten me and gravitated toward my daughter and husband in the main house. It's sort of like back here in the cottage I'm out of sight, out of mind. Bless our attentive daughters. My kids were all attentive when I was so ill--my daughter told me last night they thought I was dying--but they have backed off a bit know that I'm doing so well and can get out some.
Did I tell you one of my grandsons has never had meatloaf? His mother hates it. I've promised to fix one next time he comes for a TCU baseball game. Meantime, I want to try a recipe for ham loaf, but ground ham is darn hard to find!
Take heart, my friend.
Thank you, Judy, and you are quite correct that it is nice to have Facebook friends. But, as you noted, Facebook is no substitute for "living people". No, you never told me that your grandson has never had meatloaf. What a disappointment and shock that someone is missing one of the finer things in life! (You know I'm a meatloaf fan myself!) I love to experiment with different recipes of meatloaf! Yes, ground ham, I would think, is extremely hard to find. Have you ever thought about having the butcher in the supermarket grind a ham you have picked out? If you do not use all of it for a "loaf" you can always use the rest for a ham salad sandwich. Use a little pickadilly or sweet relish when you mix everything up. I know Kroeger will grind a ham up for you. Do you have a senior card for Kroeger? They no longer offer one but those of us who had one before they discontinued it are grandfathered. I got mine fifteen years or so ago.
Thanks, Randy. I'll try Kroger. Butcher at Central Market said they couldn't just grind it, had to special order with a day's notice, and he'd have to check with his boss. I do often buy a thick slice of ham at Central Market (I like the Three Pigs brand, bring it home and grind it for ham salad. I like the loaf idea though. Local Foods Kitchen has a salmon loaf on their web page but I've never seen it at the store--I may call them.
How's your restricted diet? If you're mobile enough and could eat them, I'd invite you up for one or the other loaf, whichever comes first.
though.
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