After a month of surviving the scorching sun, it’s raining. There’s a mist in the air like in San Francisco, carried over by winds from the Chinteni valley. It smells like wood-fire smoke washed by rain. The sky is grey and heavy with texture. I had no idea I loved rain so much. The first two days of rain, the ground was still warm, our bodies and souls were still hot, we would walk in the heavier rain in flip-flops. Now it’s cold. We wear covered shoes but we still walk around in the rain, taking Rufus for his regular walks, every couple of hours.
Speaking of which, it’s a great routine. Rufus sleeps a lot throughout the day, at our feet, on our feet, under the table. He is never grumpy when we wake him up to play. He is so groggy sometimes and reluctantly plays, until he gets a taste for the jumping around. My parents call for him when my nephew visits for the day. The dog provides endless entertainment. Anca asked to take him for a walk last night in the rain. Sure! He is so lovable, so playful and trusting.
On Tuesday at 6:30 AM we got together again. This time we all shared our own poem on Psalm 1. And we talked about life. This was incredible. It felt like we were a little more sure on our foothold, a little more confident, maybe because the reassurance of the Psalms’ wisdom shared in Palatca still lingered.
And today was a whirlwind. To understand it I should shed a little light on my childhood.
I was never sick. I started coming home alone from kindergarten. I traveled alone by train since I was 15, and at 16 I crossed the country by train, with a 13 year old in my care.
My dad used to give us pep-talks about how we are capable of doing things since I was 2.
I had blood drawn when I was 9 and my dad left me in line at the doctor’s office. Sometime you would have to wait hours at the hospital. I went in and the nurse was a little surprised I was there alone, and was a bit concerned I would faint as that was the first time I had blood drawn. After I finished with the appointment I waited outside for my dad, with my analysis receipt in hand. Nothing unusual.
I did all my homework alone (my brother helped when I was in 5th and 6th grade with math and physics) but other than than I have been in my own head, pretty comfortable there.
I went to all my exams alone, and I liked it.
This morning my dad was packing to get admitted in the hospital for emergency surgery. I found out by chance, and I called him to ask if he needs a ride. He got emotional.
I have never seen myself as a tender caregiver. I am not pushy. I don’t like to tell people what to do (that is why I was so surprised when my manager asked me to be a Lead Creative).
But I remembered how it was when I drove Conrad to the hospital for his appointments and surgery. It is almost like an out of body experience. I am all clear and calm, taking charge.
I was so glad to be there for my dad today. I could see him relax walking in the hospital with me. I went up and met a few people and saw where he was being admitted, joked around and then went back to bring him some goodies. He accepted.
I always worried a bit for not being a nurturer. I don’t understand neediness. It is actually my biggest fear.
My dad has come out of surgery and is fine. And today was a bit surreal.