Icebound Day 5

Yesterday, mail. Today, the Sunday paper. Tonight, dinner at a restaurant, but oh my was it an ordeal to get there. Jordan insisted I couldn't drive and what would I do if I had a wreck at the bottom of the ill where it's still icy. I said I'd call neighbor Jay and see if he and his big truck were going to be home. I called, and he said he'd come walk me from house to car. Jordan backed the car out to the side steps to the porch, and then made me demonstrate how I'd get there.
Trickiest part was getting across the porch, which still has a huge patch of ice, but I had a plan. I used a porch chair as a walker. Worked great. Steps were clear, and she had put rock salt on the small strip of sidewalk, which is edged by crape myrtles that make hand grips. No problem. But the driveway was a solid chunk of ice, slippery than you can imagine. I simply went from tree to car rand edged my way around the car. Not perfect, but it worked.
Jordan left, threatening to call her siblings.
Jay arrived and we made it to the car, although he told me bluntly if I started to pull him down, he'd let go of me. I did get out my Scottish walking stick with the pointy end but didn't use it much. At the Old Neighborhood Grill I had no choice but to park on ice but, holding on to the car and then grabbing the pole of a handicapped parking sign, I made it. Felt like I'd redeemed myself because between Jordan and Jay I was beginning to feel like an idiot.
Had a nice dinner with friend Mary. Comfort food--meatloaf and mashed potatoes--and good conversation. Jay came a little after 6:30, chatted and had a beer, and then I was on my way home. He taught me a lesson I'd forgotten from my years of living on ice and snow. When you walk on ice, you don't lift your feet--your shuffle, keeping your weight equally balanced on both feet. Drove home with no problems, and Jay followed me into the driveway and made sure I was on dry ground. Three cheers to my handsome neighbor who is truly a good neighbor.
Tomorrow, the world. I have so many errands to run. We have a plan--Jordan will drive my car to the backyard, where the snow is melted, and I'll go in and out the back door. Yippee! I can do those errands that have been bugging me! Yes, I'll be careful but I always am. The problem is really a north-facing house and a driveway shaded by trees. Maybe it will melt by tomorrow.
I am really tired of staying home, and while it may be a character flaw, I'm tired of my own company. It was a joy to be among friends tonight.

A thank-you to my daughter

 

I have four children. When they were teen-agers, one would accuse me of liking the other better, and I would explain as gently as possible that my relationship with each was different. You love them all with all your heart, but you react differently to each child, according to how they react and interact with you. The same is true today now that three of them are in their forties—I treasure my relationship to each, but one is never the same as the other.

Jordan is my youngest and the only one who lives in Fort Worth, and we do have a different relationship. We see each other or talk almost daily. Her seven-year-old son Jacob has been known to tell someone, “Well, I do sort of live at Juju’s house.” No way around it: we are very close.

I planned to blog about Jordan before she was in a serious accident yesterday but that only made me realize even more how much she is a part of my daily life, whether she’s appearing for an unexpected happy hour or chastising me for not being careful enough “for a woman of your age.” (That covers everything from falling to contracting West Nile Virus.) I am glad to report that Jordan is okay today, very stiff and sore, going to the doctor tomorrow, which is what the ER advised her to do. She’ll be okay, but she has a few rough days to get over.

Jordan and I rely on each other, and it’s a mutually supportive relationship. She makes herself available when I really need help, and sometimes she takes on chores at my house that I don’t realize need doing—she is planning now to rearrange my linen cupboard, such as it is, so the crockpot isn’t on the highest shelf. Her brother suggested it was a bad choice to stand on a stool and get it down. (There’s that woman of my age stuff again!)

Jordan and her friends include me in a lot of their parties and welcome me heartily. I’ve known many of them for years and years, and it is a good feeling to be the grand dame amongst a group of young people. I am, however, always the first to leave.

If I need something done Jordan always gets it done; sometimes she fusses at first, but she does it. And when I’m really in trouble, like the day I had a TIA, Jordan is my rock—she took charge, took me to the ER, etc. And called all her siblings and had me talk to them when I was apparently babbling nonsense.

I am particularly grateful to her now because she worked for weeks planning my birthday party, arranging food, buying the table and chairs I wanted and having neighbor Jay pick them up and assemble them. I was not allowed to do anything except make a marinated vegetable salad. My Megan said, “I’ve worked so hard planning this from Austin. I tried to get Jordan to help me.” We all laughed, because Megan is not a planner—Jordan is. She sees to every little detail and adds touches I never would think of. I realize these days I rely on her more and more when I give a large party. She outdid herself this weekend. The other children were part of giving the party but they are quick to tell  you Jordan did all the work.

What do I do for her? I pick up Jacob after school and help with his homework; I am almost always available to keep him overnight or whenever needed. I am eternally grateful I picked him up yesterday from day camp, so he wasn’t in his mom’s car for the accident. I cook dinner for her family as often as they’ll let me. I do whatever I can to help when something is needed—and I freely dispense cooking advice along with a lot of love.

Best thing? Almost daily, she says to me, “I love you.”

Lovely evening and a day of resolution

A dear friend of--what? thirty-five years or more?--came for supper tonight. We used to see each other once a week but now it has been since the holidays, so we had lots of catching up to do. And what better guest than one who brings dinner and does the dishes too? Linda brought a wonderful goat cheese/wasabi appetizer, chicken rolls stuffed with ham and wrapped in bacon, and a salad. All delicious. And we spent three hours catching up, laughing at old memories, working out current  problems. So wonderful to have such long lasting friendships.
And it was a perfect cap to the day that brought me some peace of mind. My doctor confirmed what I suspected--a transient alteration of awareness was a junk diagnosis. I had a transient ischemic accident, known to some as a mini-stroke. It left no damage, and I am back to normal. He is changing a medication, prescribing a new one, and advising an aspirin a day. Other than that, he said, "Go live your life. It may never happen again."
I am shaken by the fact that I had a TIA at an age ten years younger than my mom. I had always thought that it was a series of TIAs that sent her into senility and I dread that more than anything. But I guess I can't live my life in fear, so I'll go about my normal activities and thank the Lord for my good health. The doctor said that the fact that I take good care of myself and have had good medical care all my life probably meant that what could have been a stroke was only a TIA--my body compensated.
Jordan has been so wonderful throughout this, and she was with me at the doctor's office today. I am so very grateful to her and to my other children who have each expressed their concern in their own ways. Between children and friends, I feel surrounded by a cocoon of love, and I know I am a most fortunate person.
So tomorrow it's hit the grocery stores, get ready for Sunday supper for six, and move on with my life. Putting TIAs and health worries behind me.
I've sent thanks to many who expressed concern, but if I missed you, please know how much I appreciate it.

A sentimental journey

Since I retired, I've taken to keeping lunch dates, etc., in jeans and whatever, with no jewelry. It bugs Jordan, because over the years the children have given me nice silver--not expensive, not valuable, but things suited to me. Increasingly, my necklaces were in a tangle, and the several jewelry boxes I have were a mess. She has so much more patience than I do, so she untangled tiny fine chains, and laid them all out in one place, put brooches in another (I have a new sweater that cries out for my Scottish heather brooch, which Jordan unearthed for me), and sorted, ultimately carrying off anything valuable to be put in the safe. Now I'll never really wear those things! She unearthed cheap elastic bracelets, one in brown and red beads that matched the sweater I was wearing, and I dutifully put it on.
But she unearthed some treasures--my grandmother's wedding ring, small, worn thin, but that peculiar old gold with a truly rosy touch about it; a cheap locket belonging to my mom that fascinated me as a child because it opened to show not two but four tiny pictures--one of my mom, one of my dad, and one of my brother at age six holding the newborn me and a blank space I always thought should be filled. A cameo necklace of my mom's--I wonder how many people today even know what a cameo is? Some old railroad watches--must have been my grandfather's. The tiny paste gold expansion bracelet and delicate necklace, with red glass stones I'm sure, given to me as a toddler because the ruby is my birthstone. I've never owned a ruby. Now what month is turquoise? I might want to change my birthday. But it was a trip down memory lane.
Of course, when I went out to dinner last night I wore jeans, a sweater, and a raincoat--no jewelry except that expansion bracelet. Maybe I need to sharpen up my act.