Holding it all Together

As September draws to a close, there are moments when I wonder if I can hold it all together. For much of the month I’ve been in the hospital watching Kit come back from a very dark place.  Since the night of September 9th, he has required the care of amazing hospitalists and nurses 24/7. In the long days that often stretch on for eight to ten hours, I am resident in his room offering comfort, a smile, and the touch of a familiar hand.  When he drifts off to sleep, I look out the window at a horizon lined with tall pines.  And when I doze in the chair next to his bed while holding his warm hand, I let my mind travel to summers past and the arrival of fall the air. 

Oh, for those days of spoiled abandon.  Those lazy summer days when the sun makes movement slow to a crawl and people think unambitious thoughts.  Those days when vacations are just beginning and the possibilities for filling unstructured time seem as vast as the Pacific.  That time in our childhood when we eagerly burst out of the classrooms and hallways that have held us for the school year, free until summer reluctantly cycles to an end. 

By late September, summer wears a sense of urgency on her face.  Dawn comes up later.  Days darken earlier.  Until finally, the length of night catches daylight unaware and becomes her equal, signaling the first day of autumn.  From that moment which marks the autumnal equinox until the winter solstice late in December, there is increasingly less daylight in which to do all that must be done in a day's time. 

We grow up living the fable of the grasshopper and the ant.  By late September, our internal sense of industry kicks in with a renewed sense of urgency, urging us to store up provender for the long winter months ahead.  Outside we begin to adjust our bodies to the sudden crispness that fills the fall air.  The reds and golds on the landscape flutter out their warning—"Get out to the garden all you lazy grasshoppers and loafers. It’s time to prepare for winter.”

When I lived in the country, I always kept busy with fall chores for at least part of each late September day. This is the time when Roma tomatoes are still ripening on the vine and perfect for preserving.  If I lived in Tuscany, I would dry them outdoors for several days in the warm Mediterranean sun.  But these days when time does not allow that luxury, I slowly dry them on a rack in a 200˚ oven for seven or eight hours. When the kitchen is bathed in the smell of warm tomatoes, the oven-dried tomatoes are ready to be stored in glass jars with olive oil, a few basil leaves, and a sprig of rosemary.      

The basil crop planted in a pot on our porch needs to be cut and turned into a pesto.  Unlike rosemary and thyme, basil leaves do not dry well.  But they can easily be transformed into a sauce that can be stored for use in the months to come when blended with pine nuts, garlic, grated Parmesan cheese, and olive oil.

One afternoon last week when Heidi was with her dad at the hospital, I ran a few errands in Grass Valley to clear my head. One of my stops was Grocery Outlet, a local market with a wonderful array of seasonal plants and flowers on outdoor racks near the entrance.  Unable to resist September mums or their brilliant fall colors, I bought one that Kit and I can enjoy in his hospital room until he is able to return to the Lodge and the physical therapy he needs to resume.  

For now, there are no days of spoiled abandon.  Neighbors deliver baskets of local white peaches, Italian plums, tiny nectarines and crisp Asian pears for me to cook up and freeze for the winter season.  Knowing I don’t get home until after dark and am too tired to cook, they bake this surfeit of local stone fruit into delicious tortes and crumbles and leave them along with dinner on my doorstep.

For all these generous friends and for our own family who know and love Kit’s amazing spirit, we continue to hang on as best we can and endure the long days of waiting with the same patience Kit has mustered while bedridden tethered to IV drips and a feeding tube because he cannot safely swallow. 

It was on such a day that a greeting card arrived from Kit’s niece Annie that made me smile.  The illustration and message described exactly how I felt at that moment—

Life status: Currently holding it all together with one bobby pin.

Inside the message continued: “You can borrow it if you want.” 

The many heartfelt cards and daily texts that arrive daily from Kit’s circle of friends continue to keep my storm battered boat afloat and Kit’s subliminal magic carpet flying back toward health and recovery. Even on the darkest days, you provide love and light and a bobby pin to help me hold it all together.  What could be better medicine?

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The Road to Mobility

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Episodes in Kit’s Life