This Very Second is Already Gone

   

                                                               Pools at low tide


Today I woke up with a crick in my neck. Now that I'm back in Canada, maybe it's called a creak. I've had stiff necks in the morning before, but this was a wowie. I dug around for some pills and went back to sleep. I was no better several hours later so I got up and here I am dealing with it. I have some neck pain pretty much all the time. I have some meds I take and manage ok. Today, this particular spike of pain occurs when I move my head just slightly to where the bare wires spark....at least thats my visualization. So, I'm moving slowly and deliberately and feeling less pain with every ouch.


I put Deborah on a plane to Nevada Saturday morning. She is with her 4 sisters and 2 brothers. They are dealing with the unexpected passing of their mom, Rita. When I got home last night, I saw the letter I had written to her sitting on the table. It was a nice letter, thanking her for sending me a birthday card. I kept forgetting to mail it. I read it out loud to her before folding it away. You never know.


Two weeks earlier we were at my parents retirement place celebrating my dad's 95th birthday.  My sister brought Macdonald’s Hamburgers which he loves.  I managed to spike his coke with a little rum, so he was in heaven. Funny though, because he would look around and say, “What the hell’s goin’ on? ”Is it my Birthday or something ?” We’d say, “That's right Dad'  and then he’d ask how old he is and be quite surprised at his accomplishment. My mom is a frail wee thing, but healthy enough and so very happy to be across the hall from dad in her own little room. Counting our blessings here.


My Dad's world does not include much on either side of this present moment. He remembers enough to ask questions about people, places and things: "How's ol' Frank?" or, "Are you living up here now?"," Did Marge (sister) pass away. "How about Bob?" (both younger siblings). I carefully answer the questions, He nods, sometimes smiles or says, "I'm sorry to hear that." Then in couple of heartbeats, it's all gone. "Dad," I say, "you know spiritual seekers from all religions aspire to be in this present moment of 'now' " Bullshit," he'll say and we laugh.


I left this and walked down to the beach a bit ago. The cold air felt good on my neck. I am now, (hoping its temporary) one of those people who turn their entire upper body to look left or right. It was sunny and cold and I could see as soon as I went through our hedge that the tide was out. I put on an old sweater I'd never worn before. I felt somehow, anti climatically reborn as I stiffly trod the road to the water. I'd just landed in an older body with fuzzy vision, a weird haircut, someone else's sweater, unable to glance around without pain. The old, new me crunched over the smooth round rocks towards the retreated tide where the rocks were dressed in seaweed and barnacles and the sun blazed near the cold horizon. The wonderful sun that we love to see in winter, giving away bits of it's dazzling self upon anything wet. I took some pictures of those sights while it was still now back then.

 the Walk to

                   Henderson Beach