Just A Little Moment

Classic.

A Poem For A Wednesday

Wish
W.S. Merwin

Please one more
kiss in the kitchen
before we turn the lights off

Merwin wrote this tiny poem immediately following the death of his wife. How simple of a desire...to experience this seemingly run of the mill, everyday occurrence once more. I envision this as an evening routine, a quick kiss before prepping the house for sleep. But in this case, I think that "turn the lights off" is more, so much more, than flipping a switch. 

Those are the things, perhaps the tiniest of little things, that become what we want to feel just one more time after it's impossible to have them. The things that make our relationships so fully part of us and the things that represent how tinged our entire lives are with those we love. The things we barely notice as being beautiful and wonderful in their simplicity but pile up into stacks of moments that represent so fully those we are forced to leave. Perhaps they eventually become the memories that lighten the load as we go on. Yes, I think that's how it goes.

Tough Stuff

Simon is in Vegas for a work conference so Merwin and I journeyed west to my parents' house yesterday. We made this plan a long time ago but after the last couple weeks, it seemed even more important for Merwin to be in Clay again.

Two weeks ago, he stopped eating. Red alert with this dog who I once caught licking the smushed, half rotten remnants of a crab from a dock on Martha's Vineyard. He used to take an average of 3 seconds to scarf every meal. We were worried so took him to the vet. I guess I should've expected that something could be seriously wrong but I certainly hadn't steeled myself for a diagnosis of cancer, lymphoma to be exact. The vet looked at us and said "6 weeks."

Needless to say, this news has been debilitating. I knew I loved this dog and was obsessed with him (understatement), but the pain, anticipatory grief, and gut-wrenching sadness made it even more clear just how much he is such an intrinsic part of our lives. Especially over the last few months when, after having left my Boston job, he and I spent so much time together. That time seems even more valuable now.

Our regular vet referred us to an absolutely amazing oncologist right in Portsmouth, and we spent 2 hours with him on Friday learning about the disease and possible options. Simon and I walked in committed to not putting Merwin through treatments and walked out almost certain chemo was the best option. There's myriad reasons why this is so but none of them is "we want him with us longer." The oncologist was clear that his work is never about extending a dog's life, rather it is about giving the dog the best quality of life possible. Obviously we want Merwin here in perpetuity but more importantly, we want him to be able to dog the way he should be able to dog. I've struggled with the ethical and moral aspects of this decision, but I won't justify it. It's impossible to know what is right and how one should respond. Every dog owner will face decisions like this differently and that needs to be respected. 

Anyway, I felt much better after having information, so Simon flew to Nevada and I loaded the hound into the car for the long drive. This morning dawned bright, sunny, and chilly but we wandered outside and romped along the snowmobile paths the neighbor had blazed across the snow. That little butt nugget of a tail wagged frantically as he ran full speed all around the yard and trails. He didn't seem to be in pain. He seemed like a dog, thrilled to be free to dash and sniff and explore. He was happy. That made me happy.

Just A Little Moment

This guy. Love him.

A Poem For A Tuesday

Winter, Spring
Jim Harrison

Winter is black and beige down here
from drought. Suddenly in March
there's a good rain and in a couple
of weeks we are enveloped in green.
Green everywhere in the mesquites, oaks,
cottonwoods, the bowers of thick
willow bushes the warblers love
for reasons of food or the branches,
the tiny aphids they eat with relish.

Each year it is a surprise
that the world can turn green again.
It is the grandest surprise in life,
the birds coming back from the south to my open
arms, which they fly past, aiming at the feeders.

I've made it through most of winter without that usual craving for warmer weather, but today, with gloomy grey skies and the threat of an incoming Nor'easter, I'm ready to be "enveloped in green." I love how the narrator describes the spring transition as the "grandest surprise in life." Its funny how even after 38 years of experiencing seasonal transitions, they still feel shocking and unexpected. From the depths of winter it seems impossible to imagine the sun warming your skin or the cool relief of jumping into the lake or the bullfrog's call lulling you to sleep or the golden afternoon light slanting through the greenest shade of green leaves on the oak tree. Then from the summer haze,  I suppose it's difficult to imagine snowflakes and cold that hurts the inside of your nostrils. Alas, so it goes. And has for years. And will for years to come. Maybe one of these days I'll figure it out.

Outside The Portsmouth Fire Department

Meet the world's most clever dog treat container. I've walked past this ingenious contraption countless times before realizing it wasn't actually a fire hydrant but was instead stuffed with Milk Bones. Evidently, you can teach an old dog new tricks because once Merwin learned that it was his dream come true, we can't walk around downtown without him relentlessly tugging in the direction of the fire station. Speaking of the fire station, how sweet of them to keep this out for the neighborhood doggies. Warms my heart every time my shoulder is wrenched from its socket as Merwin beelines toward it. Anything to make this canine scoundrel happy.  

Birthday Escaping

We let Anthony's February 20 birthday come and go without much fanfare, meanwhile planning a surprise weekend for the old chap. We drove down to Rhode Island early Saturday morning and knocked on his front door. He was quite surprised when Merwin snuck in and we waved hello. His mom and dad showed up to babysit for the day while we told him to get in the car. He didn't know what we were up to, but we drove north to Boston and kicked off the celebration with a guided tour of the Italian food mecca, Eataly. 

What's Eataly? An insanely amazing three floors of markets (think pasta, fresh cheeses, wine, bread, chocolate, pastries), cafes, and a cooking school. We tasted pasta, gelato, still warm from the oven focaccia, chocolate bread, homemade chips, and an array of scrumptious cheeses. Glorious. After killing some time playing hearts (Simon won, what a shocking surprise), we jumped in a cab for our next stop.

Trapology was Simon's find and I think Tony was a bit apprehensive when we took the narrow flight of stairs then signed a liability waiver. Gulp. It wasn't until we watched a video explaining the rules that he knew what we were up to. In an escape room situation, you get "locked" into a room with 60 minutes to complete the mission. In this case, the scenario was we were glamping and were tasked with determining what happened to missing guests then call for help.

We found ourselves in a dark room made to look like an inside of a tent. We thought that was it, but with each subsequent clue we solved, more and more rooms opened up with more and more tasks to complete, boxes to open, and locks to unlock. A seemingly endless puzzle of deciphering and using everything around us to put the pieces together. We were "this close" to beating the clock but fell just short. However, it was an amazing hour of puzzle solving and teamwork. It felt like we each brought something different to the table, our skills blending nicely as we moved our way through the clues and the room. We all agreed we want to try it again. 

Following a delicious meal at Al Forno in Providence we concluded the celebration with Black Panther at the local movie theater. (That movie is awesome. See it.) It was such a special treat to spend the day with these two on an adventure. We'll have to "escape" again soon!