Margie's Back!

Margie and I met at 3pm today, and she is fully back in play after that momentary stagger. She’s bright, clear, wry, and truthful. We went for a walk under the blossoms (extra) and then went drinking:  Fentiman’s Rose Lemonade and Gently Sparkling Elderflower, and we even splurged on a couple of walnut ma’amools. 

Margie: I feel terrific. My body has recovered from whatever that was. It’s so frightening when you can’t get your breath, but I’m OK now. The brain, though…the brain is a problem. I know my son Andy was here for a few days, and I have the glow left over from that, but I can’t tell you a thing he said, or where we went. It’s just gone. That’s a loss. I like to pull my memories out and look at them. But now they’re gone.

After a while, I suggested maybe what the aging brain is best at, is this present moment. 

She beamed and patted my hand. “Yes, in this moment it’s a beautiful spring day, the trees are in blossom, and we’re out drinking,” she laughed. “How very lucky we are. Something horrible is happening in—where is it?”

“Ukraine.”

“That’s it, Ukraine. All this again. And for what?”

Just then my friend Meshauna passed by and recognized me. She’s working as docent at an art exhibit just around the corner from the building where Margie lives. So we went to the exhibit (2nd extra), and Meshauna did her whole tour just for us. The show is called Feeling Documents and was assembled by Don't Shoot Portland and Teressa Raiford.