It’s four weeks today since I fell and broke the ankle. It feels like four months. I am absolutely hating all the sitting around. For the first two weeks, I had to keep the leg elevated all the time which really kept me stuck in the chair. After the first two weeks, I had the cast off and the stitches out, now the leg is in a boot. At least with the boot, I can take it off to wash and give the leg a little massage. Sleeping in the bulky boot is a challenge, though. The ankle doesn’t hurt anymore and I don’t have to keep it elevated, but I can’t put weight on it, yet. I’ve been doing exercises on the floor so I don’t get too out of shape. I’m used to walking/jogging 3-4 miles a day. I will say this… I’m definitely going to have more upper body strength when this is all through!
I have, however, been making good use of my time. I’m doing some copy editing for another writer and I have started [restarted] working on my WWI novel. I’ve got a series of sketches planned, two of which are completed and one which is in progress. And of course I am reading plenty of interesting research material.
I guess if you try to look on the bright side, this injury happened in January when the weather is miserable and the days are short. By spring time, I should be healed up enough to go outside and enjoy the sunshine and milder temperatures. Well, maybe not sunshine so much… it does rain all the darn time over here. Nonetheless, I have two weeks to go till my next follow up appointment and I’m hoping for a good report. In the meantime, I’m getting around the best I can:
A poem by Meg Sorick
My memory castle is a ruin
Its halls littered with debris
My fingers brush the dusty walls
And I strain in the gloom to see
The once bright panels and paintings
Have mouldered and mildewed with time
The shining pristine sculptures
Are crumbled and coated with grime
Moonlight streams through rotted beams
When I cast a glance above me
For the roof has fallen inward
And its heaven I can see
When I come at last to the final room
I resist the urge to turn and flee
The handle stays my trembling hand
My closet is an ossuary but I have lost the key
Today marks two weeks to go until the sale of the house. We fly out the very next day. As you might imagine, my time has been filled with tasks related to the move. Since no writing whatsoever has been getting done, I haven’t been posting much either. But if we were to sit down and have a cup of coffee together and you asked me what was happening in my life, this is what I’d tell you:
- We moved my mother to a very nice senior citizen residence in late May. I’m still running back and forth delivering items she left behind and organizing her place. Fortunately, she seems to really like it and is making friends. It’s a funny thing though… she realizes her age being around other older folks. She said she’s going to get old now that she’s with them instead of with us.
- Older people leave a debris field in their wake. When mom left her part of the house it still looked occupied. I’ve been purging and cleaning all the stuff she left behind. I’m taking the last load to the thrift store today.
- Meanwhile, my own stuff is nearly packed. All that’s left is the kitchen gear that I will use until the end and our personal items like clothes, etc.
- Our shipping crate should arrive this week. When we fill it and send it on its way, it will take 6-8 weeks to arrive at our door in Ireland. One of my packed bags for the plane will carry a minimum of daily life essentials like a small pan, a small pot and a couple kitchen utensils. Can’t be eating at the pub every night!
- We aren’t taking any furniture with us. The biggest items going along are my easel and my grandmother’s hope chest. That chest came with her when she immigrated to America from Scotland in 1921. Now it’s going back across the Atlantic with me almost 100 years later.
- Now the really difficult part has started. We’ve been getting together with all our good friends to say goodbye. These are friends that have become our family for the last 26 years of living in Bucks County. Fortunately, many of them are enthusiastic travelers so we expect lots of visitors. Even so, saying goodbye is never easy. I’m feeling the weight of it.
- Among all the chaos, we remain excited and anticipatory for this move. It’s an adventure, a fresh start and a brand new book waiting to be written.