Wednesday, June 1, 2011


Last night, I had the 'pucky doo' (as my sister would say) scared out of me. I went to bed. I had fallen asleep. All I know is that at 12:30, I leapt out of bed and ran for the window to make sure of what I somehow already knew. Tim had not gotten home.This has always been a fear of mine, because he travels an hour each way from work, and he travels through some desolate area. Still, work was done at 11. He should have been home at midnight. I reached for the phone, and I quickly called him. There was no answer. I found it hard to breathe, but I am sensible. For half the trip home, he moves through a heavily wooded area in the Seneca Nation. There is no phone reception there. So I sat there trying to be sensible, but afraid that something awful had happened. My imagination was just beginning to run away with me when the phone rang. It was Tim, and he was grumpy. The heavy rains we have had caused a road to collapse, and he had to detour. He was taking the long way home, and he was late. "I thought you'd be asleep," he said, "so I did not call."

I went back to bed, but I was very wide awake at that point.

This morning, I got up early, and snuck out of the house so that I would not wake Tim up. I had some stuff to take care of at the hospital. The EKG lady came and got me from where I was waiting. I had been up late, had not slept well, and had not been allowed coffee, so suffice it to say, I was not all that chipper. However, the EKG lady was, by golly. Perky. Caffeinated. We walked side by side, and she chattered while flipping through my paperwork. "Gees, I think that I'm more excited about this that you are."

'No fooling,' I thought to myself in my grumpy, uncaffeinated way. "I guess that I'm not a person who gets real excited about medical stuff. No offense, but I'd just as soon be someplace else." ('...drinking coffee,' I thought)

She wasn't offended. "What are you going to do with the rest of your day?" I said, "Well, we're rehabbing a house." She said, "I KNOW! I read your article in the paper!" It's always a bit jarring to meet readers. They know me, but I don't know them. But we talked about houses. She's selling hers, up in New York State. She's moved here and is staying with her sister. She told me that her husband had recently died. They'd had no children, and... Next thing you know, her eyes are teary. I'm a boob of the finest caliber, so right away, I start feeling emotional, remembering how awful it had been to lose Tim the previous night, even for 45 minutes. She was embarrassed at her tears and told me not to pay any attention to her. "Listen," I said, "you're dealing with an awful lot of changes. Your husband has died, you're selling your home, you've moved to an new place...that's a lot! You have a right to cry."

EKGs don't take long, and before I knew it we were chattering away, both of us, like we'd known each other for a hundred years. "Hey, if you ever find yourself feeling blue, like you'd like to visit, you can come over to the new house and keep me company while I work. I'm a terrible blabber..." I gave her the address. Shocked, she said, "I know exactly where that is. My in-laws remodeled 418, right across the street from you."

This town is a small town. One of our new neighbors turned out to be an old friend from my childhood church. Our back yards ajoin. People are always out walking their dogs, or chatting in their yard, or sitting on their porch. We'll be living very close to the bike/hike trail. I am already seeing a lot of opportunities to socialize. As much as I fretted about moving into town, I have to admit, it's been lonely in the woods, and it will be fun to have people to talk to.

Aren't these clouds cool?

Now, let me get myself to bed. I've got class tomorrow. My reading is done. I've written my two papers. Good night!


BUSH BABE said...

Halleluja clouds... Small towns... endless opportunities to socialise and commentate and be inspired by those around. I sense this move might be excellent blog fodder.
PS Glad Tim was safe!

Mikey said...

That's so scary when a loved one isn't home when you know they should be.
How neat to meet a reader, and have such an instant connection. See, you touch people all over the place and don't even know it. I told you!!! I think you've made another wonderful friend :)

Bill of Wasilla said...

I knew right away that Tim was okay.

I know that feeling, too, of meeting people who read you and know quite a bit about you but you don't know them.

It can make you wonder, at times, why you do this.

Kelly said...

I can relate to your fear during the night. I've done that with kids AND with my husband. Heck, I've even done it with dogs that took off and didn't come back for hours/days! I've been known to take it out on them when they finally arrived, safe and sound! (well, maybe not the dogs...they wouldn't understand my fear)

Spectacular photo!!

Mary Paddock said...

I am terrible about assuming the worst--first and then making myself rethink the reality of the situation. 'Had to teach myself to stop imagining funerals, you know?

I love the description of the town.