In Which the Bessies have a Day Out, and my Father has a Stroke

On Saturday the Universe rocked the boat once more- my father called the house to tell my mother and I that he had had a stroke at the island where we have our summer house. There are no phones there and no easy way to get to shore- it had taken him three days to gather enough strength to crawl to the boat and drive it to the boathouse. Upon our arrival, he was up and walking with ski poles, and glasses that had one side taped over so that he didn't see double. He insisted that my mother go to the island to retrieve food from the refrigerator so it didn't go bad, and while she was gone he asked me to play ping pong with him to work on his coordination. He only fell into the wood-pile once, and into the screen door, but each time he laughed it off; "I'm already used to it!" He said. 

Even in his semi-paralyzed state he still beat me at ping-pong, and when the game was over we went to sit on the porch and wait for my mother to return. We didn't know what to say, so we watched the early autumn leaves fall on the water, and listened to the clink-clink of coffee cups and conversation across the way, and thought about the past and present and the future and what they had in store. Pretty soon we heard a motor whirr, and it was my mother, and she looked tired and worn but determined as she aimed the boat for the boathouse and disappeared under us to land at the dock below. 

I drove home in one car and my parents took the other, and once my father had bathed and changed he looked like himself again, and healthy, and not like someone who should be going to the hospital at all. But they went and I stayed at home and in the afternoon my dear friend came over and we sat outside and talked and talked and read tarot cards and talked some more, and went frolicking on the lawn, and waited until evening to say good-bye. Sometimes my mother would call with updates, that it had been a minor stroke (although later we found out that it was a massive one) and that my father was keeping all the hospital staff entertained.

Once my friend left and the house was empty I went for a walk, and I felt all my different emotions run through me. I felt angry and somewhat disillusioned about how my summer had turned out, but I also felt nostalgic and warm. I felt fierce and proud and jealous and bitter, I felt confident and inspired, I felt confusion, and a new tenderness arising for my father. I felt very much on the cusp of a gigantic new era, the one I've been waiting for and building toward and anticipating; I saw it rising, rearing its monstrous head. I felt all of us- my parents, relatives, close friends- being dragged and whirled forward by this unstoppable force, wanting to choose our steps with care but not having the footing, for we are caught in the undertow of destiny. 

I am glad that I was not at Omega on Saturday; flirting, dancing, chanting, drinking and getting raucous at a Burning Man party. There's a part of me that wishes I had been, but then I would have missed the million small moments that were so valuable- from the pain of the morning to the joy of the afternoon. I saw that no matter how dysfunctional your relationships with family and friends are, and how many changes the relationships undergo, the important thing is knowing you have those people no matter what. That when the going gets tough and the bittersweet symphony crescendoes, your people will show up. They may not always say or do the right thing, and they may be just as confused about the game as you, but they love you unconditionally and lend you their support as a matter of duty. It is a beautiful, beautiful game we play because it is always unpredictable and forever changing. 

I send my love to all.