Yesterday, after David drove in from the coast, I decided to walk outside on the sidewalk behind our patio. This is the farthest I’ve been able to walk since my most recent surgery in July.
Will and David, flanking me on both sides, held my hands. Just for love.
Once we arrived back at our house, I told my husband, for the hundredth time, how amazingly lucky I am to feel so loved.
Will replied, I’m the lucky one to have you. (This, after taking care of me for three years.)
Will, you have no idea how much it means to me to feel so loved instead of being a burden. Then, after sitting on the ottoman in the family room to ease my breathing, I returned to my bed, thinking to rest and read.
I can’t walk and talk, because my intake of oxygen lessens, leaving me light-headed. Knowing this, father and son were seen exhaling in an exaggerated manner in hopes of encouraging me to do the same, because the more CO2 I exhale, the greater my lung’s capacity for inhaling oxygen, and as my left lung has not yet assumed the ability to do the work of two, my ability to breath evenly while walking (no talking) is taxing.
Afterward, while I was napping, Will let me know that Sherry and Mickey were on the patio. I knew they were coming. I did not know I’d fallen asleep.
After we said our goodbyes, they met Jessica at a restaurant before driving their rented car to the airport where they boarded a plane headed toward their home in the Midwest, and they do not expect to return for at least three months.
Yesterday, Will ordered our entire Thanksgiving feast with all the trimmings from a restaurant, near by, which has won my trust to prepare each dish to ‘my satisfaction’. Needless to say that means my expectations have lowered in hopes of not feeling disappointed when my family sits down for dinner. Over these past 47 years, all of our traditional home made holiday feasts had been beyond delicious.
Will is determined to roll out and fry potato knishes as we’ve done ever since moving from the Midwest to the southwestern desert, over 45 years ago, and he has all the fixings for our traditional sweet potato casserole, as well. Since apple pie (my favorite) accompanies the dinner, ordered by Will, we’ll get a huge pumpkin pie from Cosco, which Will and David favor over apple.
We three have agreed to enjoy a jovial time with Jessica as our only guest, because our friends plan to celebrate with their families, and the rest of our family cannot come into our house until Ravi, Tony, Ray—and Marie have been fully vaccinated.
As to celebrating with our cousins, I won’t feel safe inside a house with so many who will have just flown in from the airport. And so, in the interest of fun and safety, our extended family has decided to meet at a park on Sunday morning, following Thanksgiving.
Ravi’s seventh (outdoor) birthday party is planned on Saturday of that very same weekend. And the first lighting of a Chanukah candle will be celebrated on Sunday evening, after we’ve enjoyed all twenty-five of our cousins in the park. I’m sure my walker (with a seat) will accompany me, being that a walk in the park may be more challenging than walking on the sidewalk behind my house.
Having lined up all of these activities inside my head—it’s apparent that our holiday weekend will offer up much more than I’d originally expected.
Last night, Will, David and I met up with Andi and Michael on the patio at Blanco, a Mexican restaurant, nearby, where I’d eagerly ordered a Cadillac margarita with a float of Grand Marnier followed by toasting to everyone’s good health! L’Chiam!
With hopes that your day is going well …
🙋🏻♀️😊🍸Annie
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