Recovery Underway

August 15, 2016 – Recovery Underway

Grandma Robin is in recovery mode after last week’s visit by Elisa and Sylvie.  It was absolutely wonderful having them here at the house from Tuesday until Friday.  However, it was also exhausting beyond belief.  I can’t remember when I’ve ever been so tired over an extended period of time.  As all of you with children and grandchildren know, there is no down time.  Each morning, with naïve optimism, I’d pour myself a cup of coffee and open the newspaper.  And of course, each morning, the coffee remained undrunk, and newspaper remained unread.  How does Elisa do this everyday? I asked myself.  How did I ever do this?  Even more mind-boggling, how did Elliott take on the duties of full-time fatherhood in his mid-seventies???  On the other hand, nothing makes me happier than seeing Sylvie’s bright and smiling face first thing in the morning.  

Elisa and Sylvie riding the rails in a new metro car!

My brilliant granddaughter accomplished what no one else has been able to do in years:  she got me to put on a bathing suit.  We were just taking her to the Mantua baby pool, mind you, but I still had to squeeze into a suit, dust off my rubber flip flops, and then try to remember how to wrap the darn sarong.  Sylvie enjoyed making big splashes in the water.  She was equally happy walking around the pool deck picking up dried leaves and acorns to pop in her mouth.  Fearless like all one year olds, she even she tried again and again to climb up onto the diving board.  We’d been working on going up and down stairs at home, so I guess she just wanted to practice her new skills. 

It delights me that Miss Sylvie has turned into a real gourmet.  She accompanied us to Duck Donuts (custom-designed donuts served piping hot), the Indian lunch buffet at Jaipur, and dinner at Artie’s in Fairfax.  Matt joined us at Artie’s, and we did a lot of reminiscing since the restaurant was Elliott’s default choice whenever we went out for a family meal.  As we were being seated, Elisa pointed across the room and said, “That’s where we sat when Dad told the waiter I was his wife.”  We also laughed about the times Elliott embarrassed us all by asking the waiter or waitress to guess his age.  On this occasion, I took on Elliott’s role of embarrasser-in-chief by interrogating the waiter about the various rosé wines on the menu.  It was worth the embarrassment because we ended up with a nicely balanced Chateau Puech Haut rosé from the Languedoc region.  As usual, the food at Artie’s was great.  Sylvie gave her approval of the grouper, the thin-cut fries, and two desserts – the berry shortcake and the flourless chocolate waffle with vanilla ice cream (a favorite of Elliott’s).  Alas, she left plentiful evidence on the floor of her enthusiastic approach to eating.  That’s why we always leave a big tip. 

3 generations at Jaipur

Organizing the containers

Relative calm returned after Elisa and Sylvie went back to Brooklyn at the end of the week.  The weekend turned out to be blissfully relaxed.  I watched a movie at home, did some laundry, finished another book, made a trip to the farmers’ market, and had coffee with a friend.  I even managed to eat a bowl of yogurt and fresh peaches with someone’s little fingers making their way into the dish.  There was only one problem, and it was a major one.  Late Friday afternoon, I found a large puddle of water beside the furnace – for the second time in a little over a week.  This is getting to be routine, I thought as I flipped off the air conditioning and got out the old towels.

Like much of the country, this area was (and still is) in the midst of an “excessive” heat wave.  My first reaction was disbelief, then horror bordering on panic.  Without air conditioning, how long would I survive?  How long would it take before I melted? I called the HVAC company right away but was told that they would only send someone out over the weekend in cases of medical emergencies.  So, given that there was nothing I could do except make the best of a trying situation, that’s exactly what I did.  Sure enough, the temperature in the house gradually rose to the mid-80s, but I found ways to adapt.  I carried a box fan around with me from room to room.  By Sunday afternoon, I knew that the best approach was to stay calm and move as little as possible.  The experience brought back memories of my childhood.  When I was growing up on Long Island in the 1950s and 60s, we didn’t have central AC in our house.  We took it for granted that we could cope with the summer heat by scaling back outdoor activity, sucking on popsicles, and hunkering down in the darkened house with shades and blinds drawn.  Honestly, my weekend wasn’t bad at all.  However, I’m glad the HVAC person is supposed to arrive momentarily.

Quiet Time

August 9, 2016 – Quiet Time

I’ve put off writing for a while because it didn’t seem like anything very exciting was happening in my life.  But it turned out that extended quiet time was just what I needed after a somewhat hectic start to the summer.  I got a lot of reading done, including the following two books.  The first is On My Own, a memoir by Diane Rehm, the NPR talk show host.  Her story of life after the death of her husband contained much that I could relate to.  Another book of non-fiction, Elaine Sciolino’s The Only Street in Paris, transported me on a delightful visit to the rue des Martyrs.  I highly recommend both of these books.   

When I wasn’t reading, I was probably puzzling, i.e. working on a 1000-piece jigsaw puzzle laid out on my dining room table.  It actually became an addictive activity.  Until I set the final piece in place, I was willing to forgo eating, sleeping, making phone calls, checking emails, etc.  It was actually scary to realize how strong and powerful an obsession it was.  When I finished, I vowed not to start another puzzle for a long, long time. 

Not all of my activities at home fell into the “fun” category.  I had to deal with a couple of home maintenance issues – problems with the dryer, the air conditioning system, and then problems with the dryer again.  The HVAC issue is resolved – can I impress you with my newly acquired knowledge of condensate blockages?  Elliott would have been proud of me.  Previously, these concerns fell into his domain.  Now, the responsibility is mine, and I’m feeling empowered by my success. 

Most days, the weather was so muggy that I was glad to stay inside.  However, I got out for short periods of time.  On a day when the heat and humidity weren’t too oppressive, I took my mother out for lunch. It had gotten to a point where I was starting to avoid seeing her because I found it so stressful to deal with her memory loss and dementia.  Maybe she actually realizes that she has memory problems.  On our way to the restaurant, every 10 or 15 seconds, she’d say, “Remind me again where we’re going?”  As soon as she finished a few bites of her lasagna, she switched to, “When are you taking me home?”  Instead of getting frustrated (which is pointless), I tried to retain a cheerful attitude and simply repeated the answer.  Physically, Katie is still in good shape so she’ll probably be around for quite a while.  I hope that my acceptance of her present condition will make the time I spend with her more pleasant.    

Katie at Osteria Marzano

I also went out one evening for a short educational program at the Smithsonian in DC.  The subject was rosé wines, and the program included tastings, of course.  I learned about methods of producing rosé, which grapes are used, the characteristics of rosés from different areas, and more.  There was no homework assigned, but I’m a conscientious student, so I’ll follow up on my own by trying more rosés this summer. 

Back at home, I made major headway with a clean-up of the office.  In the process, I encountered some hidden treasures.  On a crowded shelf, I came across a binder entitled Random Photographs and Elliott’s Words of Wisdom.  It seems to date back to 2008.  Since I don’t recollect helping him put this together, I can only assume that he did it entirely on his own.  And the timing of my discovery couldn’t be better because I’ve been devoting much of my time to working on the final section of Portrait of Elliott, a book about Elliott’s life. 

I wrote the original manuscript nearly ten years ago so I need to bring the story up to date before I self-publish it.  As you can imagine, reliving the events of the last year of his life is emotionally draining.  I made a big mistake this past Sunday evening by working on a particularly difficult phase portion of the story for a few hours right before bedtime.  When I got into bed, I couldn’t shut down my mind.  Although I tried all my meditation strategies, I couldn’t let go enough to fall asleep.  After a few hours, I surrendered to the compulsion to get up and put all of the thoughts swirling in my brain down on (virtual) paper.  I was so absorbed in my task that I had no sense of the hours passing.  It wasn’t until I pushed my chair back from the computer around 4:30 a.m. and saw the pile of crumpled tissues in the trash basket that I realized I’d been crying at the same time I’d been writing.  Even though I went back to bed, I didn’t manage to get any sleep.  As a result, I had a severe case of brain fog all day yesterday. 

Thank goodness I’m feeling more like myself this morning.  My quiet time is about to end:  Elisa and Sylvie are arriving later today for a short visit.  I know their presence will fill the house with activity and bring this recent period of self-absorption to an end.  In fact, they’ll be here in a few hours.  And Miss Sylvie is walking, so I must go and finish baby-proofing the house right away!