Monday, May 30, 2016

You Lift Us Up

Cross-posted from Caring Bridge.

Tuesday is Moving Day. I keep saying, "We're almost packed!" and yet find myself still putting things into boxes. This time, I mean it. (Anybody want a peanut?)

Yesterday I gathered up all the cards we have received over the last two months: the get-well cards from entertainment center, the graduation cards from the china hutch, a long row of get-well cards from the shelf above the picture window in the living room. They're all coming with us to Pittsburgh, in some box or other. I have already shared about Dear Husband's last concert with The Chorale. The next day was his last Sunday playing at church.

After we got home from the going-away party, we sat out in the sun on our back deck to open the stack of cards we had accumulated. Some were addressed to DH and some to both of us, so we decided to take turns: he would open the cards with his name, and I would open the joint ones. We each selected a card from the bag, and I went first. "Good Bye," it read, with a red balloon. How sweet. DHl opened his: "Good Bye," it read, with a red balloon. What were the chances that the very first two cards we opened would be copies of the same one??

By the end of the session, we had also opened two copies of "You're leaving? This sucks." and no fewer than five--yes, five--adorable Dr. Seuss cards. We liked the poem so much that we read it through to the end every time. I got the first two and DH the last three, which he read in his normal voice, like a chipmunk (Alvin!!), and like Vincent Price. Needless to say, we laughed, we cried...and we were very touched.

The "Get WEll" balloon that DH''s parents brought with them from Cincinnati at the end of April is miraculously still floating in the dining room. I don't know what sort of "special gas" they put in it, but I suppose I will have to euthanize it before we hop in our respective cars and head east on Tuesday. Or maybe we'll bring it with us, like all of your good wishes, that buoy us up during this difficult time of worry and change. Thank you.

Why yes, that IS a candelabra on the piano behind us.

1 comment:

Your comments let me know that I am not just releasing these thoughts into the Ether...