As Time Goes By ...

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We leave something of ourselves behind when we leave a place, we stay there, even though we go away. And there are things in us that we can find again only by going back there. - Pascal Mercier, Night Train to Lisbon (I used this quote here as well.)

The last couple of weeks has been interesting in some ways, weird in others, and downright stressful at times. Let me start by reminding those who visit here often that The Missus Herself was out California way for two weeks. She was busy most of her stay there and that stay involved helping LUSH get rid of some stuff that needed getting rid of, we've all been there, done that. Stuff accumulates, am I right?

Anyhoo, last week, Tuesday afternoon, it was time for her to return to Little Rhody. About the time I figured she'd be at the airport, my phone rang. It was The Missus Herself. Unexpected, she usually texts me while traveling. She calls when "oh shit, oh dear" something is wrong.

Damn.

I answered, something was indeed wrong. As she was lifting her suitcase onto the scale she heard a "pop" from her lower back. The pain followed quickly. I asked her what she wanted to do, perhaps head back to LUSH's domicile for a couple of days to let things relax and/or to seek medical treatment. She said, no, I think I'll get some Tylenol and tough it out.

Minutes passed, I talked with LUSH in the interim, both of us felt that The Missus Herself should postpone her trip for a couple of days. For one thing, it was a red-eye, there were two stops along the way (Phoenix and Charlotte) and we were both worried about her schlepping about the terminals in the aforementioned cities with a bad back.

Well, my phone rang once more, it was The Missus Herself with one of those "good news, bad news" reports. Good news? The airline had agreed to move her around with a wheel chair. The bad news? Her flight out of Fresno was delayed by a bit more than an hour. Dropping her time in Phoenix from two hours to less than one.

No problem, says she, the gate in Phoenix is just two away from my connecting flight. I have time to spare.

LUSH and I, both being rather disgruntled by now, still begged her to reconsider. Nope, she indicated her determination to press on.

Sigh ...

She did arrive home safely, though in a bit of discomfort and outright pain, and is now in the care of a "health professional." Hopefully that situation resolves itself for the better soon.

Warning - Digression Ahead

I have flown in and out of Fresno many times. Getting in is no problem, no problem at all.

Getting out?

It is my experience that with one particular airline, the gate agents will show up ten minutes into the boarding time. That is, ten minutes late. It is also my experience that flights leaving Fresno, on one particular airline, never, I repeat, never leave on time.

End Digression, we now return you to the rest of the post ...

So The Missus Herself has returned, however, she is, as we used to say "back in the day," not mission capable, NMC we called it. (Back in the day.) As the plan had been for her to accompany me up to New Hampshire to celebrate my mother's impending 94th birthday (which was Monday) we had to change the plan. I would be going up by myself.

Argh.

Now as my Mom is now rather unable to stay by herself, and my kid brother having retired from his old job was available (and willing), my kid brother now lives with my mother. Which necessitated some rearranging of the furniture at Mom's house.

The guest bedroom is no more, for one thing, so I would need to make alternate sleeping arrangements. Or make it a day trip, 155 miles up, 155 miles back. All in one day. Doable but a right pain in the arse.

But as The Missus Herself would not be traveling, avec moi, I felt that I could just sleep on the couch in the living room. That way I could stay more than just a few hours.

Well, good news, bad news ...

The good news, no need to travel back to Little Rhody on the same day. Said day, mind you, in which it seemed that everyone, and I do mean everyone, had decided that Saturday would be a great time to go look at the lovely foliage in northern New England. (File this under "bad news," by the way.)

Mind you, Saturday was indeed a beautiful day, Sunny, mild, and with roads loaded with gawkers looking at foliage that I myself (a New England native) felt was sub-par, at best. Oh sure, there were a couple of trees here and there which were magnificent to someone who didn't know better. But really?

I have been traveling to my Mom's for her birthday for 25 years now. I had never seen traffic as bad as that which I experienced Saturday, a trip which normally takes three hours, took almost five.

To say that I was a bit hot under the collar for most of the journey was, shall we say, an understatement.

But I got over it.

The trip back Sunday was uneventful (even if my night on the couch had left my back really angry with me), it rained which kept the "leaf peepers" off the roads. Personally I prefer to see foliage on gray, overcast days. The colors (to me at any rate) seem to stand out more than when viewed in bright sunlight. Might just be me. (The Missus Herself stated, somewhat emphatically, that it is, "just me." Sigh ...)

It was a nice trip but I'm noticing more and more that my mother isn't quite "all there" any more. She forgets easily, even things which just happened, and her long term memory is pretty much gone. It's tough on her because she knows she can't remember things.

It's one thing to not remember and not know it, it's quite another to know that you're forgetting vital parts of your life. She can't remember whether or not I have kids, late on Saturday she asked me if I'd ever married. As she gets tired, more and more of her ability to remember things just slips away. Sunday morning she was better, but it's sad to see her decline.

Well, she is 94.

Time passes, it's not always kind in its passing.

I suppose I'll get back to the fiction, eventually. Might be on a different topic entirely, lately my brain has been very much in "SQUIRREL!" mode. I guess you might say I'm too interested in too many things. Kid brother also gave me a book on Germany in 1923, that's going to be a time sink, I can tell you that. A favorite period of mine. And (bonus) it's by a German author.

Much to do, much to read. In the meantime, remember, the ice cream is free.

Before I forget, many thanks to John Blackshoe for filling the entire weekend for me. I needed the break and the story of the Garthsnaid and the photo taken by Alexander Turner (and his story) was a good one. Thanks, JB!

Now, where was I?