I got there before she did and sat in the car staring into space.
The nurse called back about yesterdays’ stuff while I was driving and I hung up just as I pulled in her long driveway. Don’t ask me exactly how the nurse said it but it came out mechanical and even hurried like I was annoying her. Basically she said here is step B, step C, and now do this and this. Understand? Goodbye.
And because I did understand I got off the phone and sat there quiet, waiting for my friend to pull up and bring her sunshine. Which she did.
This is a special day, anyway because we are in this tiny space of time between when college classes end in May and when public schools end in June.
In three weeks we will both have our kids 24 hours a day. For now, our kids are at school for a blessed bunch of hour while we are totally free. This freedom is earned and will be enjoyed, no matter what.
She shows me around her house. It feels homey, peaceful and safe. I imagine her kids sleep very well.
As we step into the backyard a gorgeous cat greets me. There’s a pool (clean!) and a huge grapefruit tree. Over there are berries, there’s the corn (corn!!) growing, and over there is the broccoli.
She deserves a trophy for even imagining this, much less getting it done. I’m proud of her for having a home like this in her heart and actually doing the hard daily work of making it a reality, but I don’t tell her because that would be awkward.
So we sit down outside at the wooden table with the huge umbrella. The cat patiently lets me pet it and we start talking about this that and nothing.
Then it comes back to the news. I want to talk about it; I don’t. I have choices, I have options, I have decisions. I can do something before it gets worse, or just wait until it gets worse. My first instinct in life is to wait for a few counts, don’t rush. Doing nothing isn’t a long term strategy but it’s a short term coping mechanism I’ve mastered.
Now that I understand what’s going on with me, I feel like I can deal with it mentally, I don’t need more medical intervention than that.
There, next to the cat and under the umbrella I think I’ve decided to do nothing, and if hurts I’ll just think, “Oh, that’s to be expected” and then go on with my life.
Until the wasp comes.
It’s a HUGE wasp probably lured by the delicious garden and giddy drunk with Spring smells.
The wasp divebombs between us and I duck. I fear no roaches, no rodents, no cats, no birds, no dogs, no snakes. But wasps are evil and not to be trusted.
Unlike me, my friend stands her ground.
Before the wasp can even decide if we are worthy targets she pulls out a towel and whips it at the wasp, putting it on the defense.
I’m pretty sure she also yelled a few choice things at the wasp, but I was too much in shock to say anything. I’ve never seen a woman fight a wasp.
This is awesome.
It retreats for a moment, looking shocked, then comes back at her.
Now she’s mad and really tries to kill the wasp before it can attack us.
I’m shaken out of my own fear and point out “OMG YOU’RE FOLLOWING THE BUSH DOCTRINE! ATTACK BEFORE YOU’RE ATTACKED!” and we laugh so hard we forget the damn wasp and go inside.
Suddenly the Bush Doctrine makes sense to me. I mean, I’m not about to attack Iraq, but I get why it’s good to attack first instead of waiting to see IF the wasp was going to really sting us.
We continue with our mid-day round of storytelling and such.
She needed this. I needed this. She cooks for us, just a few things, but it’s a feast I haven’t known in forever and the timing couldn’t be better.
I check my watch. Too soon I’ll have to get Zack, but we still have another hour.
Because this is my first time at her house she gives me the formal tour of the rooms and cool light fixtures, then we go outside so I can see the rest of the backyard, the part on the other side of the pool. There are flowers, there’s cactus, and there’s a… what?
What IS it, I ask, staring half in shock, half in admiration.
It’s aloe. She says, shaking her at the shocking plant.
I didn’t know aloe could do that. I guess this one is male? And that it likes us?
The two of us stare at the long thick stalk coming out of the usually quiet aloe plant. I have never seen an aloe plant with an erection, but this one looks downright gloriously fertile and obscene.
We love it, and I take a picture to forever remember this. I’d post it here, but it doesn’t do the plant justice and also, I like to keep my writing PG. This aloe is XXX. Trust me.
I check my watch again. Ten minutes until I need to be in the car.
We go back to the table under the umbrella.
The wasp returns and dive bombs at me.
I duck and scream “I’M KUWAIT! HELP ME!” and we fall over laughing because 20+ years later Operation Desert Storm is that interesting.
She shoos the wasp away (again, my hero) and I get up to go. We will do this again next Wednesday and the Wednesday after that until the kids get out of school, so it’s a quick and easy hug hug goodbye see you next week.
In the silence of the car on the way home I let the thoughts run around my head…. the doctor, the Bush Doctrine, Kuwait.
Things are supposed to make sense, really, they are, if you just line them up and look at them the right way and let them become a story.
Before Zack’s bell rings, before I have to put on my mommy face, it all comes together.
Then I get it. I’m not Kuwait. I don’t want to be like Kuwait. I’m supposed to learn from history.
Kuwait just sat there and Iraq invaded them. Colin Powell and Stormin’ Norman will never come rescue me.
That’s how I came to decide I’m not going to wait for this to get worse.
I will face this, I will be fine.
I will come back next week and the week after that to Camp Horny Aloe and we will all be fine.
