Last Days At Home

Our travel calendar has been completed save for the ultimate departure to Haiti.  Our last week at home was spent apart: Patrick n Denver taking care of last minute business with his ordination and I on the farm with the family.  I savored every last minute.  I brought Sadie to the farm with me so that my little animal family would be reunited one last time.  

The torrential rains that preceded my trip home allowed Dad to be with me each and all day, helping Gram, navigating her through her health care appointments.  I love time, just me and my dad.  I fell so peaceful around him.  I solve problems better.  And I am reminded of what an incredible rock, what a generous soul, what an amazing man in the community and in our family he is.  Plus we have a lot of laughs.  We went to coffee in the morning with the farmers--hearing talks of crops and rain and the latest dirty jokes.  We would spend the morning with Gram running errands or getting her to appointments laughing with her and loving her own stubborn bossiness in the face of her own frustration at her physical health.  If we were lucky, we'd have the afternoon on the farm to take a walk, eat lunch, take naps or just be together.

Gram was not feeling her best.  She was recently out of the hospital and weak with a new illness.  She was stubborn and insistent on being home instead of in the hospital where we all hoped she'd agree to.  But despite feeling horrible, she still entertained.  She still took care of.  She still bossed.  And I love her for it.  She is an example for me how to live life, how to love family.  I love her feistiness... I think it keeps her young.  I loved having days on end to laugh with her, help her when she'd let me, stick my face in her neck and breathe in the smell of her perfume.  

Mom was amazing... protective...vying for time.  She played hookie on Friday to help me take Gram around to her appointments.  I loved tooling around with her.  The ordinary is fun with mom.  I felt completely at peace with her and sunk into the comfort of doing errands and dipping into conversation that comes just from being in each other's space.  She was either functioning from some new-found resolve, or kicking her ultimate mother protective powers in, because she worked hard to celebrate our decision, and not to weigh us down with feelings of loss or guilt at going so far away.  And I loved her for it.  

Chris, Candy and Conor came up Saturday as did Pats, Pres and Meliss.  I got to ride the four-wheeler with Conor-bean, jump on hay bails, play ball in the yard, play castle on the living room floor and just revel in amazing lines of conversation that would flow from my nephew.  I got to give hugs to Meliss and meet her new Bo, talk politics with Pats, and have some one-on-one time with Uncle Preston.  Chris and I took a long walk on Sunday to the Prairie Patch--explored the woods there and fell into good conversation--nothing too heavy, just reconnecting and enjoying.  We road the four-wheeler together with the Bean before it was time to go.  I haven't had to do something so hard in a long time as it was saying good-bye to Chris.  All the love he has for me mixed with the fear he has in our decision rolled out of him.  And it met my own feelings of doubt, loss and heartbreaking love.  Hugging, I felt so close to him, connected in our tears.  I wanted to somehow protect him from pain, reassure him that we'd be ok--but not even being able to reassure myself.  I hate that the choices we make are so scary to the people we love.  But like Mom said, it allows a window to open into how much we love each other.

The rest of the day has been shot.  Everything seems like the last... last Kansas sunset, last walk down the soft dirt road, last night snuggling with Duke and Sadie and Shanti on the bed, last evening with Mom and Dad, last deep breath of crisp, clean fall air, last glance at the prairie with the sun illuminating the grasses and setting their colors on fire.  Tonight I cried for nature and for home, for fresh air, for the farm.  I cried for my animals and the little way of life we had together that will no longer be.  I cried for the fear of the unknown, for leaving my safety net and my support system.  I cried until I was left empty.  Numb.

Now its time to fill up the emptiness.  I have no tears left for myself.  The time has come to focus my energy on others.  Time to find deep down the courage to hold my head high and march into the horizon, knowing that all I love is carried deep in the core of who I am and in the most luxurious of thoughts.  Our departure is only a day away, and I ready myself with the calm that comes after the storm.  I'm now as ready as I'll ever be.