My eyes sprung open in the darkened room. I lay in the bed trying to decide if perhaps I might fall back asleep, but the numbers on the clock radio filled the room with a lime green glow and my mind began its predawn ritual of worry. Not wishing to wake my husband, I rolled from the bed, fumbled through the jumble on the bedside table to retrieve my glasses, phone and iPad, and quietly snuck from the bedroom to the sanctuary of the “new couch,” a couch we have had for thirty-seven years, certainly not the newest couch in the house, but indisputably the most comfortable. I piled the square pillows around me, building a nest to cradle my aching back and hips, and settled in to await the dawning of a new day.
My head pounded as if the infantry was marching through my house, raising a cloud of urine-tainted cat litter dust and releasing a flood of post-nasal drip down the back of my throat. I heard the click of the thermostat and knew the AC soon would be blowing chilled air throughout the house. The door at the top of the stairs swung open and bare feet shuffled across the oak-grained floor. Glancing up, I saw the ghostly image of my night-gowned sister illuminated by the nightlight as she traveled to the bathroom and back to bed. The stairs began to creak and I knew my husband was half-awake and making his way to the recliner in the media room upstairs. After much mumbling and grumbling and creaking of leather, he and the ancient black cat inherited from my mother following her death 14 years ago fell into sonorous sleep.
Slowly the dark sky began to turn a pale gray, the birds began to sing their greetings to the rising sun. Cars traveled down the street, slowing as they approached the stop sign, accelerating as their drivers continued on their way to work.
And suddenly, the whine of the coffee grinder and the heady smell of Ruta Maya beans brewing . It’s another day in Texas.
Back in 2009 my husband and I gifted each other with Macbook Pros. At some point in time between then and yesterday my administrator password was corrupted and I was unable to update my operating system. Now, ordinarily this should have been an easy fix, except I couldn't find the original install disc. After many houses of searching, I did find the install cd, hidden among a number of other cds that had been with my former classroom supplies. I am back in business except for having to recreate my computer keychain.
Technology and I are the best of frenemies.
This afternoon at 4:00 we meet with my husband's urologist to discuss the options for treating his recently diagnosed prostate cancer. While we are understandably anxious about this, we remain generally optimistic that whatever the recommended treatment, it will be successful. Please keep Jim in your thoughts and prayers. We need him to hang with us for a lot more years.
This summer was meant to be a season of celebration and new beginnings -- a remodel of the upstairs, a week of fun and frolic on the beach with our children and grandchildren, a cruise to the Arctic with my sister and brother-in-law and our favorite cousin and her husband.
Fate has a way of stepping in at such inopportune times. Wednesday we learned that my husband has cancer, not quite the new beginning we were envisioning, but a new beginning none the less. I'm hoping this new road is just a detour to celebration.