I had a busy weekend - hardly enough time to think. On Friday during the day, I felt like crying. I promised myself that I could later. I kept my promise and had a nice cry in the car.
Friday night, I chaperoned a two school 7th-8th grade dance. Enough said.
Later Friday night, Daniel arrived home from UC Riverside with four friends. The five of them made it up through the rain and wind just fine. That night they found something to do in Dublin, and in the morning, I made them pancakes and sausage. They went through two containers of juice! Good to see the guys. I had warm chocolate chip cookies ready for them when they arrived. I kept hearing something like, "This isn't like Stonehaven." (Stonehaven is the on campus apartments where they make lots of macaroni and Daniel states without embarassment houses a lot of mold.)
Saturday night Robert came over. So good to see both of the boys. I made them Cornish game hens.
Today the two boys and I got up early and went to Denica's to meet the gang. We ate and shared stories and laughed. The laughter is the best part. When I took Robert home after doing some soccer shoe shopping, Asmita showed me something in his room that she wanted to fix. We talked about it. When I looked around to Robert's bedside table, I saw some neatly laid out artifacts from his dad. I mouthed something to Asmita, and she quietly brought me into the den where there was another very carefully laid out collection of Peter's things that I had given him. Robert came in and quietly smiled. I told him how nice it was.
On the way home, I stopped off to visit some friends who have been staying at his parents where his dad has needed some caretaking lately. I'd never met them, but the mom instantly grabbed me and we looked at her garden. It has been raining madly since Friday, but there was a break. She's from Hawaii, and in her garden were beautiful orchids, succulents and other things. Before I knew it, my friend had a shovel as his mom pointed for him to "dig up this" and "dig up that". Plastic bags appeared and were filled with beautiful plants. Rose stalks were cut along with a representative flower. Succulents pulled, snails killed, lots of laughter, and soon the back of my Subaru was loaded with living things. The mom had followed Peter's struggle closely, and even though we'd never met nor talked before, I felt a closeness to her as she now experiences the declining mental and physical health of her husband. 
As she ripped out plants from the ground, I said out loud how the people with the greenest thumbs seem to be the most rough with their plants. "Just stick it in the ground!" she advised. "It will grow!" When my tentativeness came through, she said, "Just think positively!" I got home and planted and planted. It was therapeutic, and "grounding".
I feel like I've been ripped from my moorings, and I'm also self conscious about the snails that have dropped from me. I think I'll survive. Just stick me in the ground, let the rain fall down, and think positively!
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