Today Larry has an appointment at the Mayo Clinic. An oncology appointment for scans and a consult. Follow-up from his surgery last fall to remove a malignant renal tumor from his pancreas. I came across this piece, which I wrote in December, 2014. Today we talked about the feelings of dread that come with visits to Rochester now. No particular reason for concern this time, but the dread is always there.
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So obvious that it will be a
gray day before everyone arrives. Clouds, dampness. That chill, depressing us.
It’s especially depressing you.
When I was working, I’d find
myself frantic beyond words or thought at this time of year. Everything had to
be done for work, for home. There was never enough time even though I borrowed
it late into the night, then slept fitfully the last short hours until the
alarm, simultaneously planning for the last few days of school, jumping out of
bed to add one more thing to the list next to my purse.
Today it was time to vacuum
the floors in the living room, dining room, and kitchen. I’d finished prepping
the sausage balls we’ll have along with other delicious odds and ends on
Saturday evening. Christmas dinner will be earlier in the day, and we’ll have
other goodies instead of supper, between the kiddos’ gift extravaganza and the
HGE, which is adults only.
Vacuuming. Where was I? Lost
in thought, taking my time, wondering what my mom used to think about when she
was vacuuming and doing the last preparations before we all descended on her
and my dad. I’m thinking now that Dad probably did the vacuuming, since it was
typically his job anyway.
Dad got the ham ready. Mom
made the wild rice, and other things we always expected for Christmas dinner.
In later years, when we were grown up and away, we’d come home to krumkake,
which surprised me because it’s so Norwegian and we aren’t. Once they bought a krumkake iron,
though, they became experts. There were always Spritz cookies. Always, since
the beginning of my Christmas memory. Little trees, which I loved. Wreaths, and
that swirly thing, which wasn’t as artsy as the trees.
There was a certain feeling
about Christmas that I miss now. Snow is part of it, and the crisp coldness,
sunshine making twinkles out of ice crystals and icicles. Darkness, too, but only as background
for the lights and the color of ornaments and decorations. It’s a darkness that
wraps a person in comfort and safety, emptying the mind of worry and sadness.
Today, though, I’m sad. I couldn’t tell you why exactly, but some of it has to
do with Larry’s sadness. He was sick for too long, and has been better in the
last few weeks. Feelings of gratitude and relief for him have been substituted
with other worries. Six weeks of antibiotics completed should be a lifted
burden. Instead, he seems concerned that living without antibiotics will make
him sick again, or that there is a lingering and hidden infection just waiting
for him to be off guard to make it’s nasty play again. Maybe there is. Is
there?
I think I said it at the
start. One of us is going to be depressed or stressed before our family is all
together. That’s how it is.
12/24/14
