“Now hold on a minute!”

“Which one?” she asked cooly.

He stumbled under this twist in the dialog.  Every time they met, it was the same arguement, the same tears, the same making up.

“…which what one?”

She gazed at him, dry eyed, “Which minute?  Which minute would you like me to hold on?  The minute I thought you were coming back to me?  Or the minute I realized you would always leave?  Because you see, those are very different minutes.  And I need to know which one to hold on to.”

The prelogue to this conversation is that despite receiving a third vehicle over four months ago, despite calculating IN A SPREADSHEET (the most sacred document in our household) the sale of the truck into our financial decisions, despite REPEATED badgering/nagging/threatening from me, the truck remains dirty, unsold, and in a vistor’s spot by the pool at the condo… 

Me:…So can we add that to your to-do list?

Him:  Sure.

Me:  Like the truck?

Him:  Don’t forget to add “Beat the wife”.

Me:  Given your ability to cross things off this list?  I’m not too scared.

“You know Norma, she has that disease….same as your friend.  Start’s with a c…”

“Cerebral Palsy?”

“No.  That old boyfriend.”

“…Corhn’s disease?”

“Yes!”

“Wow.  That was a while ago….that was over two husbands ago!”

“Now you’re just bragging.”

“I don’t think that’s something to brag about, Grandma.”

I am not going hiking with Tom this weekend.  I am picking my grandmother up from the hospital after she finishes her first round of chemo.

I guarantee, there will not be pictures.

I am so frustrated with this whole situation I could just spit.  Or start drinking at 4pm on a Wednesday.

I’m frustrated we didn’t know about the chemo earlier.  I could have re-arranged my schedule to have free weekdays (my boss is extremely lenient and awesome about working from home) and spent half of my time in Gainesville.  As it is, squeezing a few weekends out is difficult.  Both weekends I’ve had to go up I’ve also been scheduled to cover Sundays at the sanctuary. 

I’m frustrated with my grandmother’s friend who took it upon herself to get my cell phone number.  She left a message saying she wanted to offer her take on the doctor’s appointment that she attended.  When we got on the phone, she told me nothing my grandmother hadn’t relayed except that, “You need to be here.”  I was ready to go willingly.  But now that I’ve been told so by a complete stranger…yech.

I’m frustrated that this is falling in the busiest month for Tom’s work.  He apologized for not listening last night, when he fell asleep.  What’s he doing right now?  You mean you can’t hear the snores?  But such *comforting* snores!

I’m frustrated that I called my mother to vent about grandma’s friend, and all she said was, “So can you make it?”  Here’s the thing:  I’ve done this for the family already.  When I was twenty I spent the summer living with a great aunt who I watched die violently of a stroke.  Long, long ago I used to moan about how sick I was of everyone feeling I was “strong”.  This is the kind of thing that makes me moan.

I’m frustrated with myself for feeling this way.  How many times have I said that my grandparents (now just grandmother) are part of the reason I live in Florida?  Exactly what did I think that would lead up to?  Cookies and rainbows?

It’s funny; when I started this post, I thought I’d lead to some cathartic release of frustration over my grandmother and cancer.  But I just don’t have it in me.  Cancer happens.  My grandmother lost her husband five months ago and still doesn’t have the results from her bone marrow biopsy - it’s not like she’s been twiddling her thumbs, assuming I’ll sweep in and save the day.  She plans to hire help, she just hasn’t been sure what kind of help she’ll need.  Until then…?

Barring a nice tied up neat moral of the story, I’ll leave with a moment of Zen:

Ho Tai is a Buddha from my grandparents backyard - first in Ann Arbor, MI, then in Gainesville, FL.  When they arranged to moving into the retirement community, Ho Tai was one of three pieces I arranged to take.  Celeste is, without a doubt, our dumbest cat.  And yet here, she looks so wise!  You’d never imagine she lacks understanding of closed doors, bathroom hygiene, or how to not fall off a bed. 

The semester started last week.  My fears of disinterest in my classes were unfounded.  Both my botony-ish class and my seminar-type thingy on techniques of wildlife field ecology appear to be very relevant and have peaked my interest.  I am even tempted to ask the professor if my project for ecology could be worked into a published paper.

I’m leery however, since my plate?  Surprise!  It’s full!  You’re shocked, I know.

(Talking with a Ph.D. student at USF who volunteers with me, she mentioned she always felt like a slacker next to me.  I, in turn, envy people who seem satsified with pursuing one thing steady and true.  There’s a dedication there that somehow I believe I lack.  (Although if you consider my commitment and sacrifice for the sanctuary, maybe it’s there in some weird fashion.))

Along with classes, I am working part-time still, continuing the field research, and keeping up my volunteer hours.  Unfortunately(?), my schedule is packed to the point I won’t make it out during the AM hours over the week.  I will be feeding the cats 2+ days a week (evening), spending almost every Saturday out there, and just about every other Sunday.

I haven’t done a sanctuary update in a while, mostly because I haven’t had a chance to take any pictures recently and I like to pepper my nerdy cat facts with cute photos to hold your attention.  But rest assured, we’re all still going strong.  I had a pretty nice day today (yes, cat’s shit and eat even on Labor day!) in that I worked side-by-side with another long-term volunteer.  She’s one of my favorite to work with in that we get along great and manage to be social while also not slacking off.  I can’t stand to work with someone who seems bent on distracting me from the job.

I also got to teach a class to the newbie interns.  It included walking the grounds and discussing different topics to present to the public (we’re open for two tours during weekdays and four on Saturdays).  I liked getting the chance for them to feel like they got to know me right off the bat.  They need to rely on me for training for the next three months, and I’ll come to depend on them for prep work.

Tom (yes, ST.  I’ve wanted to come clean regarding his name for while.  When it slipped a few posts ago, he said he thought it was intentionally so I figured I’d make it permenent.) is very supportive of my work (ALL my work), and so I can’t begrudge him when he asks for a little time just for him.  Next weekend we’re heading hiking.  Look for pictures.