As I knew she would, Maria headed out to see the donkeys, she is so close to them. Donkeys show affection by being near the things they love, they are not demonstrative like dogs or eager to please. Lulu and Fanny leaned into Maria, I could see how glad they were to see her.
Maria came home this afternoon. She was excited and exhausted, and we were very happy to see one another. We held each other for a long time, then I made some tea for us, Ginger tea. We talked for half an hour or so – it was so wonderful to feel her body. She took a shower, her first in days.
She came outside to see the animals and we did the chores today. I could see she was spinning, I made her lie down on the sofa and she fell asleep two barn cats appeared, they were so happy to see her also. She fell instantly into a deep sleep, and I will leave her there for as long as she sleeps.
When I saw her sleeping with the cats, I knew this was the photo to mark her coming home.
My world has returned to something familiar and stable, and it makes sense to me again. I realized today that I was experiencing a form of grief – not the real thing, but still, a loss. Be apart from someone for two weeks is not remotely the same thing as losing a lover or partner for good, I know that.
My life didn’t make sense in some ways.
This was is a kind of loss, a disorientation, a disruption, I felt a bit lost sometimes, and there was no time or opportunity to go through the painful stages of grief, just a feeling of bewilderment, of something familiar missing. Our connection was born out of grief and loss and fear, and that is a special kind of connection.
One day, one or the other of us will have to deal with a more permanent loss, and we will, I’m sure. I didn’t quite know what to expect. The excitement and accomplishment of her trip overshadowed anything else, as it should have. And in the few minutes that we have talked, I see she will be processing this for a long time. Those girls and women she helped are in her blood and imagination and they are now a part of our lives.
So I think, was India.
She was spinning with stories and images.
Maria is very happy to be home, she belongs her, her blood and spirit are in the house and among the animals, who rushed to be next to her, the way animals show love. She began organizing things in the way she does, re-arranging the fires in the stove, moving things around, she pulled a piece of bread out of her pocket from the airplane, she saved it for the donkeys.
I have always wrestled with learning disabilities, my mind runs in all directions, I circle and circle for hours to do things she does in minutes. Her energy always astonishes me.
So wonderful to have her home. The earth is revolving around the sun again. I wonder how long she will sleep. She is very eager to blog, that has become a part of her creativity, her art.
Maria is on the way home, a mildly dramatic finish to a very dramatic trip. Triple A finally showed up, she got the car started, it seems like the emergency brake was frozen (she did drive through a blizzard to get to Boston two weeks ago and the car has been sitting idle for two weeks).
The social media battalions checked in and said they wanted her to stay in Boston for a night, but fat chance. I knew she was getting home, and I also know not to tell Maria what do, it is never turns out well. My own prediction – she will be home by 2 p.m.- looks good.
She slept many hours on the plane and seems rested and feisty, I will take good care of her. The only question is whether she’ll say hello to me first or the donkeys.
This has been an amazingly exciting and important trip for Maria, and I am nothing but thrilled about it. Traveling on a journey like this involves bumps and surprises, that is a part of it. In India she learned again and again that nothing moves in a straight line, there are ups and downs, bumps and surprises.
What she really learned, I think, was how strong and resilient she is, something I know but she isn’t always sure of. When she called about the car troubles, I felt badly for her, but I never doubted she would be home soon. How neat. More later.
Friday, the Mansion Assisted Care Facility launched a gofundme page seeking to raise $10,000 for a new van. It seems unfortunate to me, that in America, the world’s wealthiest community, we will be spending billions, of not trillions, of dollars for an expanded military, but do not have $10,000 for a Medicaid Assisted Care Facility to purchase a new van.
Vans are a lifeline to the outside world for the residents, they are the way to get to doctor’s appointments, get outside, take field trips, go shopping, visit family. They are a link to the outside world, past and present. The Mansion van is beat up and dying, the Mansion owner, George Carla, has raised half of the money, but because of the many improvements he has made to the facility, he can’t get a bank loan for the rest.
So it falls to the outside world – to us, if we wish to accept it – to do the rest. I do accept this challenge. George is a good man and he runs a loving and place, he and the staff do everything possible to make the residents feel safe and well cared for.
The gofundme page went up on Friday, and this morning, had raised $4,850, which is great. We are at nearly 50 per cent, $5,150 to go. I hope you can help, and perhaps share this page and let others know about it. This is a good cause, a chance to do good in a time of turbulent and conflict.
It is easy to feel abandoned and forgotten in institutions like the Mansion, no matter how good the care. The van is the residents connection to the world beyond, a way of keeping close to the things they love and have lost.
Medicaid facilities do not have a lot of money, and if the Congress gets its way, they will have even less in the future. I am determined to help them get their van, and if any of you can and wish to help, that would be wonderful. You can reach the gofundme page here. And thanks.
Much excitement this morning, Maria landed at Boston’s Logan Airport around 7 a.m., cleared security, took a bus to her car, and she couldn’t drive it. The wheels had locked somehow and wouldn’t move. She was, needless to say, frustrated as well as being exhausted from 48 hours of flying. She called Triple A, they went to the wrong place and then she locked her keys in the car.
She has not yet started for home.
This has a Biblical feel to it, the tests of Maria. Blizzard on the way out, frozen brakes on the way in. A lot in between. She is waiting for Triple A in a garage a half hour from the airport. If they can’t get the car started, they will tow her and her car back to Cambridge.
She got upset and cried a bit, then rallied as she always does, and handled it. All of Maria’s emotions are on the surface, there is a great honesty in that, but she is also very strong and competent. I draw from that strength. Ten minutes later, we were both laughing on the phone.
The good news is she will get home today one way or the other, even though I hate to think of her standing out in the garage in the cold locked out of her car in Framingham, Mass. Not much I can do. Just thaw the salmon. Keep on tidying up. I am not a neat person, chaos follows me everywhere.
I will just call her every few minutes to keep her company. The house is ready, I had some flowers made up for her, I told the florist to have some fun, and she did.
I had a rough night last night myself, got sick during the day but feel better thankfully. I did not want to be sick when she came home.
My job now is to help Maria decompress, help her to rest, she handles these things beautifully, but she also feels them intensely. She will be very pleased to see her donkeys again. And I can hardly wait to see what comes out of her studio.
Thinking back on these two weeks, I wanted to record how it was, a little, before it all gets lost in the shuffle. I was not lonely, which was interesting, more disoriented. I learned that I can still take care of the farm and the farmhouse, but I am tired, more tired than I expected. Some of that might be emotional, this was an emotional experience.
I did not get the writing done on my book that I expected, partly because of unforeseen storms and computer crashes, but also, I think, because Maria’s absence was disorienting for me, and I was always wondering where she was and how she was doing. To write a book, your head has to be free and clear and mine wasn’t.
At the same time, this was a healthy thing for us, we have been together these last few years, and it was important for Maria to fully grasp her own strength and competence – after this experience, nothing much will throw her back home. Nobody offered to feed me and I didn’t need anyone to feed me, I am good at that myself.
My friend Scott Carrino called every day to check up on me, and I appreciated that. As it turned out, I didn’t need any help. Cassandra was wonderful, she makes one last visit tomorrow morning, I will miss her, not because we can’t handle things, but because she is so great.
There is great excitement her about Maria’s wonderful writing and blogging and photos from India, a lot of people want to hear about the trip. Some friends want to arrange a talk for her in town, I hope she does it.
I think the reason I didn’t feel lonely or sad much – just one day, really – was that the trip was so exciting and affirming for Maria, a celebration of her life and skills and great heart. She means to do good in the world with her art, and she is and she will. Next year, I might be in India with her, and wouldn’t that be a trip.
In the meantime, just a few hours to go, a final hurdle. Our reunion is postponed a bit. But she is almost home.
