Of Pharaohs and Princes

“They say the Pharaohs built the pyramids Do you think one Pharaoh dropped one bead of sweat? We built the pyramids for the Pharaohs and we're building for them yet.” - Anna Louise Strong

Merv and I spent a few hours at the Art Gallery of Ontario today visiting the King Tut exhibit. It has been thirty years since the exhibit was last in Toronto and though I saw it then, today it all seemed brand new. I was amazed when we were in Rome last month as I looked at art that was two thousand years old. But the pieces I saw today were close to a thousand years older and were created with an artistry that made those early Roman pieces look primitive. It has been quite a number of years since I last visited the AGO. It is a very different gallery than it was before it's addition and renovation a couple of years ago. It is truly magnificent. I will make it a point to visit more often.

When we finished at the AGO, we headed to Guelph to take our prince out for dinner. Merv had sourced a restaurant on-line before we went. When we arrived at Turtle Jack's we found a large crowd and a long line. Trusting that was a sign of good food, we waited about forty-five minutes for a table. The food took another half hour to be served but it was hot and very tasty. The truth is none of us really minded the long wait. It stretched out our time together and gave us a chance to talk and catch up. Jacob looks great. His hair is all grown in and looks perfect. His colour is back, eyes and skin are clear and while still a bit skinny, he looks like he has regained a couple of pounds. I sighed with relief when I saw him.

In just two weeks, Jacob will be home for Christmas. I can hardly wait. He is moving into the home stretch of his first semester at school, still doing well and starting to make plans for next year. He would like to move out of residence and share an apartment with some friends but he hasn't worked out the logistics of that yet. For one thing, he doesn't want to share with the guys who want to share with him. He says he likes them well enough but has no interest in living with them. He wants to share with people who are more like him and more like his friends from Bayview Glen. He knows what it is like to have friends who support one another and share values. He wants no less for himself now. Merv and I are both impressed with his judgment and maturity.

As always, the short hours we had together evaporated all too quickly. I think I have one more lunch or coffee visit in me before I pick him up for the Christmas holiday. My eyes were welling up and my throat was tightening as I hugged Jacob goodbye. I'm trying but it's still hard.

Mindless

"Of all the things I've ever lost, I miss my mind the most." - Anon

I spent a couple of hours on Queen Street yesterday scouring my favorite bead stores for special items to make some Christmas gifts. I was really pleased at what I found. After spending some time shopping for glass beads at one side of Arton, I moved over to their premium store to buy some sterling, pearls and crystal. It was a satisfying trip. I could feel my creative juices flowing. Nancy was with me and she saw some lovely (but very small) pearls that she thought she would like to find under the tree at Christmas made up into a twisted, six strand, pearl bracelet. After an hour of shopping, my stomach began growling. There is a nice Japanese restaurant down the street from Arton so we decided to head there for lunch.

The restaurant was extremely crowded though it was already well after 1:00 P.M. when we arrived. The great thing about it is that it is a buffet without being a buffet. For $11 at lunchtime, each diner is given a long menu from which to order as much or as little food as desired. The sushi is fresh and delicious. I ordered salad, California roll and tempura hand rolls, vegetable tempura, yakitori and green tea ice cream. I was happy to see Nancy eat a full meal too, such a rarity these days.

After lunch, we hit more bead stores and some fabric stores. I didn't buy anything more. After I dropped Nancy off, I drove with great anticipation. When I get home from the bead store, I love to open the bags and lay out my purchases. I turn the beads and stones over in my hand to get a feel for working with them and I start making plans. It is hard to explain to someone else because I know it sounds pretty crazy, but I listen to the stones. Eventually, they tell me what they want to become.

I pulled into the garage, parked and reached for my purse and my bag of beads. I had my purse, but no bag. The bag wasn't in my purse, wasn't in the backseat or under one of the front seats. I called Nancy to see if she had taken my bag in by mistake. She had not. I checked the car again. Checked my purse again. No beads. I felt sick. I tried to retrace in my mind when I had last had the bag - it was at lunch. I couldn't call the restaurant because I didn't know its name. There was nothing more to be done. It would have to wait for this morning.

So today, I was back on Queen Street, back at the Japanese restaurant, gratefully retrieving yesterday's purchases. I was prepared to accept the scenario however it turned out. I promised myself I wouldn't beat myself up about it if it turned out that I wasn't able to recover my treasures. I hate that I'm so absentminded these days. I hate that I can never find my car keys or that I lose my car in parking lots or leave bags behind in restaurants. I don't know if it is normal aging or having too much on my mind, the remnants of chemo brain or the onset of Alzheimer's. All I know is that I miss my mind a lot.

Catching Up

"Complaint is the largest tribute Heaven receives." - Jonathan Swift

My friend Judy called today to complain that I haven't blogged for two weeks. Mea culpa. In a way, it's nice to know someone is reading my blog. I don't have a mechanism to see if anyone looks at it so I'm never really sure. It isn't that I don't have anything to write about but rather that my days and nights have been busy and when I have had a little time, I've been spending it reading. I bought a few books at the rummage sale at my mom's nursing home and I never have been good at leaving books laying around unread. My days have been busy with work (for which I am thankful) as well as activities for my boards. I'm also still negotiating the house issues - the repairs to the kitchen cabinetry started today. With any luck, the broken door will be replaced and all else completed by the end of next week.

It is the season of annual general meetings in the not-for-profit sector, at least in the organizations where I have a seat. Last week Willow Breast Cancer Support Canada held its AGM at a club in Chinatown. It was a good evening devoted to boosting the agency's profile and thanking sponsors and volunteers. The club, One Up, no doubt provided a good rate for the venue and food (which was really good) but made up for their shortfall in the prices at the cash bar. I bought a glass of wine for one of my fellow directors and thought it was a bit pricey at $10.50. Mixed drinks were above $15. I did make a new culinary discovery that evening. Each table held a bowl of Hershey's Christmas Kisses - white chocolate with candy canes - really yummy and destined to be my treat of choice this holiday season.

Last night was the AGM for West Toronto Community Legal Services. The event was held in the recreation room of a subsidized housing apartment building. One of the women on the staff of the clinic made dinner for the attendees. It wasn't as fancy as the food served at One Up, but it was just as good. A fair number of clients and guests attended the meeting. When the business portion was completed and we had enjoyed a short dessert break, we were treated to an excellent presentation about housing and tenant rights. The audience was engaged and participative. The night served to highlight to we board members, just what a fragile community we support at our clinic and how important the work is. All in all, it was quite uplifting.

On Monday night, I attended It's Always Something, an annual show held at the Princess of Wales Theatre to raise funds for Gilda's Club. Gilda's Club was established in honour of Gilda Radner, the wonderfully funny comedienne whose life was cut short twenty years ago when she lost her battle with ovarian cancer. Gilda's Club provides support to people and families living with cancer. The show was fabulous. Comedian Russell Peters hosted and kept us in stitches with his raucous, politically incorrect humour. Nothing is sacred in his world. At least his racial jokes poked fun at everyone - an equal opportunity bigot. Other performers for the evening included Dave Thomas, Eugene Levy, Colin Mocherie, Divine Brown and the Canadian Tenors. Between performances of the star studded cast, a young couple took the stage to talk about the challenges they are facing as their three-year-old daughter goes through two-and-a-half years of treatment for leukemia. They talked about the things for which they were truly grateful - a Canadian health care system that doesn't hand them medical bills when they already have so much to deal with; Gilda's Club, where they can go for support and where their daughter can go and play without feeling conspicuous; the well wishes and prayers of so many people. It was humbling. After the show, VIP guest, which I was lucky to be, were treated to a first-class reception with champagne and nibbles including some great little cupcakes.

Tuesday night found Merv and I at a lobster party. Our friend Nancy arrived at 7:00 P.M. on a flight from New Brunswick with 15 lobsters cooked and packed in frozen peas, ready to eat. Ten of us assembled at the home of one of her friends and managed to devour those lobsters accompanied with tossed salad, potato salad, bread and lemon meringue pie. I managed a whole 1.5 pounder plus the tail of a second. It was heaven on a plate.

This weekend holds some promise. Merv won tickets to the Tut exhibit at the AGO for Saturday afternoon. After we've been through it we are planning to drive to Guelph to treat Jacob to dinner. I haven't seen him for two weeks so I'm really excited. It's been 25 years since the Tut exhibit was in Toronto and I'm looking forward to that too.

So Judy, you can see I've been really busy. Please forgive me for my lapse in blogging these past couple of weeks. I'll try to do better.

A Mommy/Jacob Holiday

"Grown don't mean nothing to a mother. A child is a child. They get bigger, older, but grown. In my heart it don't mean a thing." - Toni Morrison

When Jacob was very small and I was a frazzled woman trying to balance the responsibilities of an executive position at the bank and the weighty responsibilities of motherhood, I would plan Mommy/Jacob holidays. I usually didn't tell Jacob until the night before that the next day would be one of our special days. I would take the day off from work, pull Jacob out of daycare and we would spend the day together doing anything he wanted - an afternoon at Chuckie Cheese's, a movie and lunch at McDonald's, a day of climbing and playing at a climbing center or just a day of cuddles and crafts at home. It didn't matter what we did so long as we did it together. Mommy/Jacob holidays were our special time. Just we two, no outsiders allowed.

We continued our holidays even when Jacob was in elementary school though I usually structured them around PD days when he was not in school. The rules were always the same. We did whatever he wanted to do. We stopped calling them Mommy/Jacob holidays once he was more grown but we continued to have days when just the two of us went off to do something fun, be it a day at Dave and Buster's or a walk through Chinatown. We would talk and laugh and get caught up the way friends do.

Last Sunday, feeling the desperate need for a little alone time with him, I texted and asked if he could fit me in one day this week for lunch or coffee. He quickly responded that today would be great. He had a three hour window between classes when we could get together. I drove out to Guelph, picked him up from the dorm and reiterated the rules - we had three hours to do whatever he wanted.

We started with lunch at Moxie's where I encouraged Jacob to eat whatever his heart desired. He certainly is looking better than when I last saw him, but he is wafer thin. What he really wanted, he confessed, was a steak but he was aghast at the price and thought he would settle for a burger instead. One twelve ounce peppercorn sirloin later, we headed out of Moxie's for our next stop at EB Games. Apparently a new version of Call of Duty is out and he desperately wanted it. I beat him to the Interac machine and paid for the game. Then we were off to the bank and then to Future Shop. A few days ago Jacob lost the charger for his laptop and he has been beating himself up about it ever since. I personally don't see the margin in self-flagellation and finally convinced him to let himself off the hook. I bought a new charger. Next stop was the beer store for a couple of twelve-packs of Canadian tallboys. All finished with his list we headed back to the dorm.

I helped Jacob unload the car and carry the stuff to his dorm. I said goodbye in his dorm room but he decided to walk me back to the car. I thanked him for letting me spend time with him. He told me to come back whenever I wanted but suggested maybe next time we could have dinner. Apparently the window of time for our Mommy/Jacob holiday was a little short for him too.

Avoiding Flying Pigs

"What happens when someone gets the Swine Flu and Avian Flu? They see pigs flying." - Anon

I finally sucked it up today and stood in line at a Toronto Public Health Clinic to get my H1N1 vaccine. I heard that the long lines had disappeared and that a particular clinic in the north end of the city was taking qualifying patients as they walked in the door. Shots are still being limited to those who are considered high-risk. Heart disease and cancer history put me on that list.

I avoided going for the shot last week as the lines were hours long. It somehow didn't seem prudent to me to stand in close proximity with a thousand other people during flu season. I also didn't think my nerves would withstand a day spent with screaming children. The clinics will soon be open to everyone so I seized the chance to get my shot today before the next onslaught of people.

As luck would have it, today is the day Toronto Public Health decided to implement a new computer system. There were about 50 people in line ahead of me. I understand that if I had gone yesterday, I would have been seen in less than 15 minutes - but not today. Not only is there a new system, but also a new complement of trainees.

I stood in line for about 40 minutes before I went through the first level of check in. There were several screaming babies and a number of out-of-control children running amok unchecked by their seemingly oblivious parents. It felt like a long 40 minutes. After round one, I proceeded to another waiting area for another 10 minutes. Then I sat down with a nurse who asked me some questions and gave me the injection. It was painless. To cap off the experience I was required to sit in another waiting area for 15 minutes before being allowed to leave.

There were many children waiting to be allowed to exit. They like to keep the kids for a bit longer - about 30 minutes. Three siblings sat in the row in front of me. One of them, the oldest, was claiming he was experiencing numbness in his arm from his shoulder to his wrist and then claiming dizziness. The middle boy was terrorizing his younger sister by punching her on the arm where she had received the inoculation. He frequently jumped up from his chair to dance a few rounds of the macarena. When he wasn't dancing, yelling or taunting his sister, he was punching his older brother. Their mother paid no attention to him. The oldest boy was frequently administered to by a very patient nurse who was working hard to diplomatically tell the children's mother that there was nothing physically wrong with him. He was not having an adverse reaction to the shot and his purported numbness and dizziness were either anxiety based or an attempt at garnering some attention. It did net him and his siblings each a bottle of juice and a package of cookies which I eyed enviously.

I could hardly wait for the 15 minutes to be up so I could escape the chaos. I was impressed by the patience and calm demeanor of the staff. They are all doing a great job in an environment that would unravel me by the end of the first shift. By the time I left, my arm was already aching but I'm not complaining. Better a sore arm now than a week or two with swine flu later.

Windows

“Among the many thousands of things that I have never been able to understand, one in particular stands out. That is the question of who was the first person who stood by a pile of sand and said, "You know, I bet if we took some of this and mixed it with a little potash and heated it, we could make a material that would be solid and yet transparent. We could call it glass." Call me obtuse, but you could stand me on a beach till the end of time and never would it occur to me to try to make it into windows.” - Bill Bryson

The window saga lives on at our house.

Last spring we got three quotes to replace the windows and doors on the house. None of them was cheap but we ended up going with the most expensive of the quotes based on a recommendation from our friends and the reputation of the company. We paid half the money as a deposit in May. The balance was due on installation scheduled for June.

As with most house renovations, the June installation date got pushed out to the middle of July. Finally installation day arrived. It was supposed to be a three-day process. Two of the windows came in at the wrong size and had to be reordered. The glass for the front doors was also the wrong size so it also had to be reordered. That was supposed to take two weeks. There was a great deal of damage to the walls of the house. We were left with gouges, holes and badly chipped plaster. The windows at the side of the house that were supposed to be frosted, were installed with plain glass. Some crank handles were missing. The foot lock on the basement patio door was not installed. The installers deeply gouged my kitchen cabinetry with a nail. The windows that were installed were left filthy and on, and on, and on. The company promised to make everything right - they would send someone to repair the walls, provide the missing handles, send in a window cleaning company, repair the kitchen cabinet and get the wrong sized windows and the front door installed within two weeks. None of that happened. Four weeks went by before the windows and doors were installed. The morning of that installation, the installers informed me we had to provide our own hardware - something they neglected to tell us when we signed the contract.

I continued to be in contact regularly about all the other items that went undone. It wasn't until I got a little nasty that we finally received the missing handles, the windows were finally cleaned and the holes patched (though he made a huge mess that gave us a large re-painting job in almost every room). The frosted glass issue was dismissed by the company as our problem. Turns out they had neglected to put the cost in the final estimate (though it appeared earlier versions) so if we wanted the frosted glass we would be required to pony up another $500. We were already in for $30K and I told them to forget it. They didn't care that it was their mistake. An expert came in to look at the kitchen cabinet to decide on how to repair it. The cabinet cannot be replaced as the manufacturer declared bankruptcy a couple of years ago and the cabinets have a custom stain. He said he would be back the following week to do the repair. The foot lock was still not installed so a senior staffer came to do that. It would seem, however, that it was not installed because the door frame in that sliding glass door had been improperly drilled. When trying to redrill the door, he accidentally touched the glass which caused the glass to shatter. It would take a week to get new glass. A week later I was advised that the door panel would have to be replaced. It would take four to six weeks. No one came that week to fix the cabinet.

Nine weeks later, today was the day the cabinet was to be fixed and the patio door panel replaced. It was arranged late last week when I called them once again and implored them to finish the job. They were to be no later than 9:00 A.M. and would be done no later than 10:00 A.M. as I had an appointment scheduled downtown at 11:00. They came at 9:25. The cabinet repair person told me he didn't know if he could do the job as I hadn't given him enough time. Then he told me he didn't know how to do the repair. He wasn't prepared for the extent of the damage that had been done. He couldn't get the right stain. He didn't know how he would get behind the wood valance to do the sanding. He was afraid he would do more harm than good. I told him not to do it if he wasn't sure, suggesting he get on the phone with a more experienced repairman. About ten minutes later he told me he knew what to do. God help me. My dark wood cabinet now has a wide, white swath across it. He said he didn't know if it would work. He will come back tomorrow and try to fix it. I wanted to cry.

Then the window installer came upstairs. The new window panel was the wrong size. It would have to be reordered. I wanted to cry.

I sat down to write a terse email to my company contact. The phone rang. It was a senior manager at the company calling to apologize for the latest screw up. He would have to call the manufacturer and find out when we could get a new patio door panel. He would call me back right away. I lost it. I yelled, not something I like to do. I cursed, not behavior that made me proud. I threatened to bring in a lawyer. Ultimately I gave him my cell phone number so he could call me right back as I needed to leave for my appointment.

When I returned home at 4:00, he had not called, not on my cell or the land line. I beefed up the message I was working on in the morning and sent it out. Less than five minutes later, he called. He wasn't going to leave work today without taking care of it, without a plan, without some answers. The manufacturer did not return his call. Could I just give him 24 hours to make it right? More dialogue, more imploring, more anger, more resignation. He got his 24 hours. The clock is ticking.

Small Wonders, Part II

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so.”
- Mary Jean Iron

The afternoon yesterday brought more surprises - unfortunately, not good surprises. I did my nails, got dressed and ready to head out for my much needed eyebrow wax and some groceries and a pair of stockings. Just as I was heading out the door, the sky opened up and sent a shower of hail, followed by rain. I figured I could find a pair of pantyhose in my drawer and hope the lights at the reception were dim enough that no one would notice my unibrow. The only grocery problem was that we were out of milk but even that was not a crisis. There is always a can of whipped cream in the fridge which will do in a pinch for my morning coffee.

I really wanted to see Gray's Anatomy last night but as we were going out and wouldn't be back before late, catching the episode would require PVRing it. I don't spend much time in the downstairs family room anymore. Though the exterminator assured me when he was here in September that there are no more mice in the house, I'm still wary. The TV set with the PVR on it is downstairs. I told myself it is time to stop all this silly anxiety, especially when it comes to going downstairs in the broad daylight. Mice are nocturnal and there aren't any in the house anyway. So I walked down the stairs to set up the PVR. Just inside the door was a mouse. The mouse wasn't moving but I was so hysterical, screaming and crying that I didn't know if it was frozen in place from my screaming or really what was happening. I blindly ran up the stairs in a state of hysteria. I somehow managed to run my last pair of pantyhose. I ran outside and stood on the porch crying. After a few minutes I made my way back into the house, grabbed my jacket, purse and car keys and drove to the end of the block where I knew Geraldine would provide me shelter. When she answered the door, I was still crying, still shaking and coughing uncontrollably. Poor Ger. She thought someone had died.

I know that my reaction to a little mouse (especially one that turned out to be dead, either from the poison the exterminator put in the walls or because I gave it a heart attack when I saw it) is a little irrational. I just can't seem to do anything about it. I called the exterminator again. Unfortunately they can't get here until Monday. In the meantime, I cannot go downstairs and I'm living in a highly paranoid state. I didn't even want to spend time alone in the house today.

That worked out okay because next Saturday is the semi-annual rummage sale at my Mom's nursing home and Nan and I have a lot of work to do to get ready for it. People have been dropping bags and boxes of trash and treasure off for several weeks and we do all the cleaning, pricing and set up for the sale. It's a lot of work but it gives the residents and visitors a lot of pleasure so we don't really mind. It's always interesting going through the donations. I tend to be most surprised at the many items which should have gone to the garbage but come to us instead. And then there are the rare treasures - an old teapot or painting, a piece of vintage jewelry, an old camera. If something is of substantial value or it's very special, we set it aside to be kept at the nursing home or at least to give them an opportunity to decide if they want to keep it or sell it. Otherwise, it gets attractively priced to sell.

Today I sorted through a big batch that was brought to us from someone's estate. These were the things family members didn't want to keep. Some trash. Some treasures. There were three big bags of collectibles - candle sticks, brass bells, figurines, stemware, china boxes, china cups, little jars and bowls. There was a small glass pitcher with the owner's name and the date 1904 engraved on the side. I had a catch in my throat when I saw it. I can't understand why a family member didn't want to keep it. The newspaper that the items were wrapped in was musty and damp. I would guess the bags had been sitting in someone's basement for some time. I was a bit nervous about sticking my hand into the bags - still paranoid about finding the body of an unwelcome visitor. It took me some time to get through the three bags. At the bottom of the third bag, I reached in and unwrapped a tea cup and gasped with surprise.

Nineteen years ago, Nancy and I were charged with the task of cleaning out my Aunt Sadie's apartment. It was just a few months before she died and while at that point we were well aware that she was suffering from dementia, we didn't know until we cleaned the apartment, just how long she had been suffering. The apartment was a disaster zone. There was no order, no seeming rhyme or reason as to why things were where they were. There were rotting groceries in the kitchen. The smell was awful. Nan and I took turns crying throughout the day. I was cleaning out the kitchen when I came upon two teacups wrapped in newspaper which had been packed dirty and stashed in an unlikely place. The teacups were exquisite - Japanese lusterware, footed and faceted. One cup is pink, the other turquoise. I brought them home where they are housed separate from the balance of my teacup collection, in the living room cabinet. I have only one friend who I allow to drink from those cups, my friend Gail.

Gail loves teacups and I've been trying to stock her supply for several years. I looked for a cup like those special ones for 15 years before I finally came across a yellow one at an antique market at Yorkdale mall. I bought it for Gail's collection. Last year, I came across an orange one at an antique shop in Havelock. It has a small nick near one of the feet but I really don't care. I bought it for myself. This afternoon, unpacking those bags, I came across the purple one. Needless to say, the purple cup is now in my possession. It will not make it to the sale. It has obvious signs of wear but that only shows me that it was well used and well loved by it's previous owner. I paid more than the market value of the cup so the Houses of Providence made out fine. I don't know if the cup will stay in my possession or find it's way to Gail's collection. Either way, that teacup gave my heart a little jolt of joy - a small wonder to lift my spirits on an otherwise anxious day.

Small Wonders

"Expect nothing, live frugally on surprise." - Alice Walker

It is gray and raining. The kind of day that makes me want to pull the covers over my head. Tonight Merv and I will be attending Cirque du Soleil which is always fun and uplifting. I need an eyebrow wax and a manicure. I don't know what to wear. I'm pushing the seams on everything I own and somehow haven't been to get myself to stop eating all the leftover Halloween candy that is overflowing the bowl on my kitchen table. I need to get myself together.

I didn't expect to have much to entertain or amuse me until tonight. So I expected little when my Blackberry dinged this morning with a text message. My initial assumption was that it was my dentist hounding me again to reschedule the visit I missed when I was in Rome. Much to my surprise though, it was Jacob. I text with Jacob most days but it is very rare for him to initiate the dialogue. It wasn't an exciting message - a couple of questions about laundry and suede care but I enjoyed it all the same. We exchanged a few notes, and "I love you"s. The day seemed a little brighter.

I've had a four-strand pearl necklace in my head for a few weeks now. I went and bought the pearls yesterday so I decided to put it together today. It would be easier to do on a sunny day. The pearls are dark green and I'm struggling with seeing the holes to string them without strong light. It is good though. I love the feeling of the pearls in my hands.

I took a break from stringing to pour a second cup of coffee. A glance out the kitchen window gave me a view of a fox in the ravine. I watched him hunt for several minutes amazed at how quick and agile he was. At one point he took a great leap at a tree, I assumed at a squirrel or bird but he landed with an empty mouth and continued on his hunt. I was glad I didn't witness the capture of his breakfast. It was wonderful to watch him hunt but I don't want to see the kill.

It isn't even noon. I'm wondering what other small wonders will come my way on this otherwise gray day.

The Visit

I've waited
All week
With breathless anticipation.

Lunch
A glimpse into his dorm room
A conversation while looking in his eyes.

I call from my cell phone
We're in the parking lot
He's coming out to meet us

I glimpse the green of his Guiness sweatshirt
He's thin and pale
His hair has grown in.

Brunch at a hotel restaurant near campus
He eats a lot
Roast beef and vegetables, lasagna, chicken and eggs.

You've lost a few pounds
I say as an observation
Trying not to sound critical.

I've been too sick to eat
He responds wistfully
I'll gain it back.

We talk about Italy
And problems with the computer
And the Halloween party he went to.

When do you think you might come home
I ask in a light tone
Trying not to sound needy.

I don't know if I can get home before Christmas
He responds wearily
I have so much work.

Our meal is finished
He has a big assignment to do before day's end
We drive him back.

We help him unload
Coats and boots, towels, a warm blanket made by Aunt Nan
Food for his fridge and Halloween treats.

Love you Baby
See you soon
Call if you need anything.

It's been two hours
We're on our way back
I can hardly breathe.