In her starry shade of dim and solitary loveliness,
I learn the language of the world.
George Gordon Byron (Lord Byron)
The view is incredible tonight, after many nights of pitch darkness this slip of a moon casts shadows and light on the barn. No clouds tonight, only brilliant light that makes it worth sitting up for.
Why is it that the thoughts that you managed to push away all day come tracking you down only to consume your night? Oh yes there are many of us right this very moment, 2 a.m. who are wondering the same thing. I have no doubt about that. Oh this view is incredible. That old barn is so lovely covered in dark shadows and brilliant light that dance, skirting around each other, much like life itself.
I settle in for yet another one of those night thought times. Sitting upon my Dad’s old quilt protecting the old blue chair below, I wrap Mom’s knitted squares afghan around my shoulders enjoying the view. Letting those thoughts come as they may. I rather enjoy this time, letting all those thoughts that I had jammed into one big jar, giving them a shake then pouring them out. There is no way to tell what will come of it.
Visiting Mom yesterday, we are laughing, giggling and singing silly songs I snuggle close to her. I tease her about her choice of tops today; she laughs and tells me she likes it. “You’re so warm, how is everybody?” This is her "go to" statement when she is not sure who you are, I believe. I do not care, I know who she is and I take every moment like this and save it for the days when she will only be sleeping. It’s a good day.
Pearly walks in closely followed by brother Donny. Pearly has a brown paper bag. “I am back Mom, I have brought your soup” I stand up and help Mom over to the table. She does not hesitate. Pearly has turned this into a weekly ritual and I think Mom knows what is coming. You see, the little corner store makes homemade soup where niece T cooks and the soup is delicious. The couple who own the store know it is for our Mom and takes the time to make it very special.
Donny, Pearly and I watch as Mom eats that soup like it was the best thing she has ever had. The three of us talk and watch. We are a bit noisy, and I know Mom, being used to all that noise when we were ten little ones running around under foot is comfortable with that. I look over to Mom she is smiling and eating. This whole eating thing has been a problem. Alzheimer’s does that.
The soup is gone and she grabs the lemon tart. At brother Donny’s suggestion, she takes a spoon and digs into the lemony goodness, a smile on her face. Donny’s face has a smile just as big. We all love this time. This little woman ate everything, and then she grabs a pastry that was sitting beside her and ate it too.
Oh I wish I could describe the joy that brought to me and my siblings.
The night thoughts are calm and soothing tonight, the view of shadows and light dancing off the barn are so incredible. I pull that knitted afghan tighter and enjoy these wonderful night thoughts never knowing what will come tomorrow night.