Saturday, March 05, 2005
She's Dead. She's Not. She's Dead. She's... Walking shoes, jackets, hats and gloves on, we were ready to walk out the door for the dog walk. And then the phone rang: "The medics say it doesn't look good," said my brother-in-law. They're taking her by ambulance to the emergency room now. She might not make it..." So we waited. Each time we unpeeled an article of clothing now making us hot, so too was unpeeled a glimpse of our reality ahead. Hubby's trip to Chicago tomorrow nixed. A last minute flight to Vienna (over $2,000). Logistics of a burial. What to do about our planned vacation to Jamaica at the end of the week and oh wait what about dinner tonight with friends? Life without Erna.
Then came the second call. The other brother-in-law. "It doesn't look good." Hubby and I look at each other. "I guess I'll have to go to Vienna tomorrow. Right?" he asks. "Well yes dear. If your mother dies you'll have to go to Austria for the funeral. Of course." We both begin to transcend the thorny realities of immediate logistics to try on the cloak of what-it-feels-like-without-a-parent. "Well hey she had a pretty good life and it will be ok." Hubby is looking paler and paler by the interminably long minute.
And then the third call came. A miraculous recovery. A woman on the 'brink of death' is now well and resting comfortably. We are told that the situation wasn't as critical as originally thought. 'Well I guess not!' I think to myself. On this end there is a brief pang of guilt that we had for all ostensive purposes already buried the poor woman... "Well shall we go for our walk now?" I asked. "I think we could both use some sun..."
Then came the second call. The other brother-in-law. "It doesn't look good." Hubby and I look at each other. "I guess I'll have to go to Vienna tomorrow. Right?" he asks. "Well yes dear. If your mother dies you'll have to go to Austria for the funeral. Of course." We both begin to transcend the thorny realities of immediate logistics to try on the cloak of what-it-feels-like-without-a-parent. "Well hey she had a pretty good life and it will be ok." Hubby is looking paler and paler by the interminably long minute.
And then the third call came. A miraculous recovery. A woman on the 'brink of death' is now well and resting comfortably. We are told that the situation wasn't as critical as originally thought. 'Well I guess not!' I think to myself. On this end there is a brief pang of guilt that we had for all ostensive purposes already buried the poor woman... "Well shall we go for our walk now?" I asked. "I think we could both use some sun..."
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