Margie is 94 today

Today my Tuesday FaceTime conversation with Margie coincided with her 94th birthday. I asked her what she's doing to celebrate, and she told me she sent cards to each of her three children, telling them what she loves about them and trying gently to prepare them for her exit. 

“Since Covid started, I’ve been confined to my apartment. That’s six months now, and I appreciate how much my children care for me. I don’t want to die from suffocation with Covid, god no! not if I can avoid it. But I see that my stamina, fitness, and memory are all failing much faster since I’ve been shut in, than they were when I could get out and take a walk. What a difference that made. My world has become very small. It’s a lovely world, as comfortable as anyone could hope for, and I appreciate it, but I look forward, peacefully, to leaving. I don’t feel any drama about it. I don’t have to push it. I’m just ready. I know my three children, all in their sixties now, can take care of each other. 

“There’s nothing left in me but love. Well, there’s the horror of Trump and the way Fascism is taking over this country. I can’t believe it. My brother died fighting Fascism and the Nazis.” (She pauses. We are silent together, then she seems to recover.)

"Everything else—what was it? ambition? (she laughs, and I make this photograph with my iPad) Did I have a wish to climb more mountains? (more laughter) Was there some idea that I would write something that someone would want to read? All that has burned off. There’s nothing left but love, and few words. I’m tired. Just getting up and getting dressed wears me out. What is there to want? In some ways, just between you and me, in some ways it will be a relief to go."

“Until then, I appreciate the changes in the weather outside the windows. That smoke yesterday was horrible, but wasn’t it dramatic? The horror of it. The smell. But most days, I love the changing light, the moving shadows. The clouds. A hummingbird now and then. One of my orchids blooms again. It’s all fine and dandy, but I don’t feel I need to hold on.”

Bittersweet, our talk. Her birthday. I plan to be away next week, if the fires in the mountains are not too bad. I’ll check in with her when I get back. But I hear her. Nothing is left but love, and peace, and a readiness to go. Meanwhile Oregon is on fire, and Blipper Don has just posted astonishing photos.