THERE'S a train coming down the tracks and I believe I can almost see it. I still don't know what day it will arrive, but for some reason I am getting more and more comfortable -- but not too much so -- with the idea that one of these days it's going to stop for me. And pick me up. And take me somewhere peaceful.
Maybe it was watching my granddaughter swinging her baby back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, in his car seat. She was trying to soothe him and get him to sleep because he had been crying. And I had *been* there. I had *done* that. My arms were once strong enough to go on and on with the swinging for half an hour. Not anymore, however. After two minutes they would have been "noodle arms."
Then on April 19, a former colleague died. She had been ill for over two years, I think, and her disease was never correctly diagnosed. She must have suffered cruelly and yet she continued to work to support her family and get her daughter through college. She went in to the hospital for a biopsy and they admitted her because she was so ill and a couple days after that she died.
Gone. No more walking uptown to cover her beat for the newspaper. No more driving the new little car she got and was so proud of. No more planning for flowers in the greenhouse to transplant this spring. The vines growing over her arbor will have to be taken care of by someone else ... or not.
But back to that train. If we are so fortunate as to live to 100 years, without disease making us miserable (picture that old lady who only has a mild twinge of arthritis on damp winter nights; that's who I want to be) that means I am in the last quarter of my life. The. Last. Quarter.
As in -- if life were a basketball game -- the last 10 minutes of play. "Make those free throws!"
Not to worry though. I will wait for the train patiently but play hard and have lots of fun before it arrives (whatever time that might be).
The other night on the way home there was a huge cloud formation that looked exactly like a humongous Dairy Queen vanilla ice cream cone with the twirl on top. I love clouds now. I used to be afraid of them.
Last night our piece of Oregon sky was the same color as the Kansas sky just before Dorothy's house flew up overhead. But the light was such that it lit up everything with an eerie glow and brought every color of every blossom and flower out even more vividly than at midday in full sunlight. It was windy and the flowers bent in the breeze. The poufs of pink blossoms hanging from trees looked sweet and sticky -- you could eat them like cotton candy. And the trees now have just enough leaves to still allow you to see their shapely branches and the trees in back of *them.* There are layers and layers of loveliness and I could eat it all up.
I think from the time it's taking to load the pictures that they may be eating up things too. Things like space and time to download, if your computer is not up to a big picture. Oh, well. Not going to fiddle with shrinking them at this point. Too late. Enjoy the closeup viewing.
And I told you I was taking a Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain class. Right? Here is my left hand. And I am not a good "drawer" - not a realistic one anyway - femminismo
Editor's note: There are 12 minutes in an NBA quarter. Yay! I have 2 additional minutes! - thanks for the comments oh lovely people!