Dearest Rachel –
For all that I’ve been telling you about Dad’s latest wrestling match with mortality, there have been more than a few undercard bouts that have been on the bill that I haven’t touched on. There are a couple of which I’ve thrown in the sponge until a more opportune time, such as a meeting with our brokers (which was to take place on the day that Dad got brought into the ER, and while that was considered an acceptable excuse, I was marveling at the fact that the meeting never made it to my electronic calendar even as I was talking to them about having missed it) and a conversation with our attorney about some newly discovered items from your parents’ estate.
And then, there’s the situation at home, regarding Daniel and Logan. I haven’t brought Daniel into his ‘Poppa’s’ situation all that much; at first, because the hospital would only allow two people in the intensive care room at a time anyway (and with Mom and me already being there, he was the extraneous one, sitting in the family waiting room for any word from either of us), and then because it no longer looked as if the situation was as critical as it had been. So he’s been blithely going about his life, mostly as if nothing was amiss.
Which I suppose isn’t too far wrong. Dad’s situation is another level in the “new normal” that dates back to his first case of sepsis shortly before your mother’s final turn. It’s a situation that, bouts with pneumonia aside, he’s been dealing with since before Covid (and we have been so glad that he wasn’t dealing with one of these during the Covid period; it would have been a practical guarantee that he wouldn’t have made it out of that, between the lack of human contact and the overworked – and thus inattentive – care staff wherever he might have been placed). After seven years of this, with several previous close calls, why wouldn’t he act as if this is all part of the ordinary cycle of life?
This attitude seems a bit cavalier, but when every moment is considered to be on a knife’s edge, you eventually learn to treat it like a sidewalk. Besides, he’s already been able to process your loss to a certain extent; once you can deal with the loss of a parent, the loss of a grandparent seems like something that can be endured just as well.
It doesn’t hurt that he has a friend at hand to help stabilize things. I know, Logan was only meant to stay with us for a year, so I could have a reasonably empty house to welcome ‘Megumi’ into (assuming, as always, that she exists), but as she has yet to reveal her existence, let alone be invited into our home, I’ve let him stay that much longer. Daniel needs the company more than I do for the time being, anyway; this is a form of enforced socialization he never really got by being an only child or through his dorm life at Judson which he refused to stay on campus for.
For his part, Logan, while not quite making himself ‘part of the family,’ has done what he can to be as close to that point as feasibly possible. The other day, he asked about whether he could make breakfast for us all on Friday (which is to say, yesterday). I responded with some ambivalence, as a full meal takes time, and I would be wanting to leave at a decent hour to get some ‘work’ in at the ‘office’ before spending the afternoon at the rehab facility with Dad and Mom. However after getting up early yesterday morning – early enough to do a laundry before leaving the house at nine – and sitting around writing while I waited for the washing machine to finish its cycle, I could keenly smell the aroma of bacon from the kitchen. Logan decided to go through with the plans he’d made regardless of whether I was enthusiastic about them or not.
As you might guess, I didn’t get out of the house promptly at nine like I’d planned. Kosher or not, I don’t know anyone who would pass up on bacon for breakfast.
At the same time, though, it doesn’t always work out so well. I’d been meaning to have Daniel and I take Mom out to dinner after hours spent at Dad’s (and at his encouragement, although not initially his idea at first – this was meant to make up for the fact that we wouldn’t be over at their home on Thursday). However, her availability was on a day-by-day basis, and in the meantime, Daniel and Logan had made plans to go see a movie. By the time yesterday had rolled around – and we were chatting over breakfast – they were talking about their plans, just as I was about to ask if he would be willing to accompany me and his Meema to dinner; it was clear that the answer would be “no,” to my disappointment.
However, for what it was worth, Mom had been receiving care packages of food from neighbors and even my sister, to the point where she was in no need of a night out to eat. Indeed, she was of a mind to take on her deliveries while they were still fresh. So the fact that Daniel had made a prior commitment was of no concern to her; as long as we were to be getting together for Sunday dinner after church, she would be satisfied. Besides, to insist that Daniel join us at this point would have disappointed Logan, after he had made plans with him. Better for him to keep commitments he’d already made, and do something he’d enjoy, than feel obligated to keep an appointment that none of us were necessarily prepared for.
So yeah, Friday night was quiet for me, but as long as everyone else was sufficiently content, that was okay. If someone has to, better for me to be the one, as I can deal with it by now. In any event, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep an eye on all of us, and wish us well regardless. We’re all in need of it.
Letters to Rachel 