Blue Dress (Annie Gallup)

I've intimated here that my mom is in ill health - when I went up to Atlanta for my aunt's funeral, it was even more painfully obvious. Her troubles with pulmonary fibrosis, in addition to kidney disease, have caused her to slow down substantially (severe shortness of breath), as well as having to watch her diet, being ever-vigilant of protein, potassium, sodium and phosphorus - she just segued to Stage 4, with Stage 5 requiring dialysis.

So... a recent wish of mom's has us experiencing a beach vacation together (my family of 5; my sister, her husband and daughter; my brother; and mom) - my sister and I decided to make this happen before the summer got away from us, and spent the better part of a week e-mailing and phoning realty companies and rental properties to find the perfect location.

Despite the last-minuteness, we did come up with something on St. George Island, Florida that fit all our criteria: a house directly on the beach, with a pool, sleeps 10 - in addition, this one also has a jacuzzi, two family/living areas, an outdoor grill and, believe it or not, an elevator (since mom has trouble walking great distances). It's a bit pricy but, synchronistically, my aunt's passing saw that each of us received a few thousand dollars, which we'll just roll over toward the rental fees - found money, right?... :-)

The kids and I did B.J.'s bulk shopping night before last for most of our non-perishables (since there's only one grocery store on the island, small and expensive) - we bought enough to sink a battleship (snacks, sodas, alcoholic beverages, etc.) and will get milk, eggs, bread when we get there. Very sweetly, and secretively, my three children co-conspired to split the cost of groceries - I of course cried in the wholesale store...

The plan is to have very low-key breakfasts and lunches... and take turns cooking dinner, with a few evenings designated as restaurant nights and the last being Leftover Night (my self-admitted anal-retentive... um... attention-to-detail... sister compared it to the scene in About Last Night, that classic 80's movie with Demi Moore and Rob Lowe) - love you, Mari... <3

We're also bringing lots of games (Trivial Pursuit, Scrabble, cards) as well as Wii - guess I'll finally see what all this Guitar Hero fuss is about. Of course, it wouldn't be vacation without a totebag full of books - those are already stacked on the dining room table. I understand the shelling is good there - can't wait for relaxing strolls along the shore, and I'll be bringing my New Balances for exercise walking too!

We will do a Cocktail/Happy Hour each evening, which could very well coincide with the sunset - I am a strong believer in coming to a standstill to reverently honor the peaceful and colorful beauty of day's end... and I also encourage applause when the glowing orb sinks below the horizon line... :-)

One of the special moments will be a pasta-making lesson - my mom has made her own noodles for years, and gave each of us a pasta machine for our wedding (you should see the family of spiders that resides in mine!). So, it was decided we will all bring our machines and mom will refresh our skills (the males as well as the females) - my Aunt Julia years ago established the first rule: take off your rings... :-)

Despite my sense of overwhelmedness these last few days with having just returned from Falcon Ridge... and advance planning for the first event of my concert series the Saturday we return (ack!), I am so ready to go on this vacation - we plan to make lots of memories and I will of course bittersweetly share them upon our arrival home...

We leave first thing tomorrow (Saturday, August 2) morning, and come back August 9 (about an 8-hour drive each way) - have a great week... as will I, returning tanned, well-rested and well-read... as well as a year older (we'll celebrate my 54th birthday at the beach... :-)

SONG: Blue Dress by Annie Gallup

BOOK: Dear Mom, I've Always Wanted You to Know: Daughters Share Letters from the Heart by Lisa Delman

POEM: Courage by Anne Sexton

It is in the small things we see it.

The child's first step,

as awesome as an earthquake.

The first time you rode a bike,

wallowing up the sidewalk.

The first spanking when your heart

went on a journey all alone.

When they called you crybaby

or poor or fatty or crazy

and made you into an alien,

you drank their acid

and concealed it.

Later,

if you faced the death of bombs and bullets

you did not do it with a banner,

you did it with only a hat to

cover your heart.

You did not fondle the weakness inside you

though it was there.

Your courage was a small coal

that you kept swallowing.

If your buddy saved you

and died himself in so doing,

then his courage was not courage,

it was love; love as simple as shaving soap.

Later,

if you have endured a great despair,

then you did it alone,

getting a transfusion from the fire,

picking the scabs off your heart,

then wringing it out like a sock.

Next, my kinsman, you powdered your sorrow,

you gave it a back rub

and then you covered it with a blanket

and after it had slept a while

it woke to the wings of the roses

and was transformed.

Later,

when you face old age and its natural conclusion

your courage will still be shown in the little ways,

each spring will be a sword you'll sharpen,

those you love will live in a fever of love,

and you'll bargain with the calendar

and at the last moment

when death opens the back door

you'll put on your carpet slippers

and stride out.

QUOTE: "The most important thing in illness is never to lose heart." ~ Nikolai Lenin