My Mother was cleaning when I arrived,
To set things right is to put things right.
Is this common in every culture or particular to New England?
It is much better to be flustered at the untidy mess left behind than to think beyond the parameters.
It was the first clear, warm day after a week of cold rain.
The type of day when your spirits could reach euphoria by sunlight induced energy,
But we are out of synch with the day.
Friends stop by as we are leaving for the hospital and we are almost embarrassed to have bad news.
What type of rube has bad news on a beautiful day?
I have many friends with older parents,
Who struggle with finding time and making space for companionship, comfort and emergencies.
I know many people who had children late in life, toddlers with 50 year old parents, and I think about them experiencing the cycles of life at an early age.
A generation of young people will have late life issues confront them during their prime.
Besides the embarrassment of hospital gowns and exposed flesh,
Beyond the unsightly bruising from needles puncturing vessels,
There is the hideous architecture of hospitals and the array of machines that become companions.
My family looked out of place there, we feel akward.
I drifted off for a moment, and designed a green roof for the ICU.
All of the hospital windows look out onto tar coated blankness, like a parking lot.
Inside this arsenal of medical technology is a living person, who life interrupted and threw into uncertain outcome.
It happens every day.
Even on beautiful spring days when the promise of the summer to come is held in bud and branch and it calls, even commands that the senses desire life.
My Father makes plans from his chair.
He has a story to write and wants to visit Boston and see the museum; he says that his trip to the Island will have to wait until August, when he regains strength.
He needs to take something to someone, he promised a favor.
He is dictating the terms to life, telling it how it will unfold.
But there has been a rupture in our faith of the terms.
Life seems incongruous and out of synch with itself,
But it is in perfect balance.