Tap Dancing around the Truth

What to say? Life is.... How to complete that sentence? It just... is.

I've been dancing around the Real Stuff going on in my life here in the blogosphere, avoiding certain subjects that occupy the majority of my daily thoughts.

Things are changing for Nanny, my beloved 88-year-old grandmother. She needs back surgery, two rounds of it, to help alleviate the pain of her osteoporosis. She will spend the recovery period in convalescent care. She wants so very much for the surgery to "work," to make it possible for her to walk around easily and painlessly. For a woman who spent her professional life on her feet in a beauty parlor, and her personal life on her feet in a kitchen or a dance floor, losing her mobility has sapped her effervescent spirit.

She wants to move back to her own home this summer. I don't know if that will happen. My dad recently sent a sentimental email to our extended family and friends, about how her house on Billview Drive may someday soon belong to another family who will make memories there. I can't picture it.

Also, my friend Brad continues to fight the good fight. He's been in the hospital again for a while now. There are quite a few reasons that have kept me from writing about this stay in the hospital like I did last August.... It DOES cheer me to tell you he's started a March Madness pool for NCAA Basketball Championships in the ICU. So there's that.

None of us ever know how much time we have on this Earth. Nothing is ever certain, for anyone. On the other hand, Death is definitely biding his time, quietly playing Solitaire in the corner while we fiercely ignore him. I hate this roller coaster of news, updates, and "developments," but I don't ever want the ride to end. Perhaps this is the bargaining stage, but at the moment, I'm up for anything that gives us five more minutes. Just five more minutes with my crazy blended friend-family intact, please. Just five more.

"A little girl calls, 'Please don't let me fall!'...
You are so small under your blanket here in this hospital
I love you."
"Tell your bones not to let go,
Your heart is beating slowly now.
The Spring has come..."
-Anna, by Antje Duvekot