Friday, March 11, 2011
Sittin' On the Dock of the Bay....
Where have I been, dear neighbours? Sittin' here restin' my bones, here in the Aerie above Joe's Bay...watchin' the tide roll away, as that sweet song goes. Tide and sky slide in and out of my view with oh, such constant soothing movement; medicine to balance eyes, mind and heart. Storms have challenged us, screaming winds playing pick-up sticks with trees across roads and power lines. Auntie Moon came so very close, bringing icy tide heaving into Home's cove as if giant beasts undulated, just below surface of the water. It has been a time of retreat, of spiraling memories as my mother slips into dementia, three-thousand miles (not to mention a whole passport) away...and this loneliness won't leave me alone, sings Otis.
We are now in the thirteenth year of my daughter's fight with Lyme disease and co-infections. She has suffered as patient, but still tries to gather information and advocate for others, when she is able. It took eight years of searching and struggle before Anna could get on a proper treatment protocol and here, in the thirteenth Fall and Winter, had to come understanding and acceptance that she is in the fifteen percentile who will not get better, without major medical breakthroughs, because it took so long to be properly diagnosed in yet another state that ignores tick-borne infections. Our tears mixed with stormy weather in December, as she turned thirty and let go her dream of bringing children into the world, though she still reaches for the future with Hena, her sponsored child in Calcutta, India. Hena's letters pour like sunshine through thick grey days.
Despite sputters from old Winter Woman, our garden sprouts daffies, snowdrops, crocus and lilies, while trees gently blush their hope. Spring may seem far away, but I have watched eagles and red tail hawks circle right above me, singing to one another and touching talons in tentative new hope. Rainbows and Sundogs abound between clouds, Equinox just ten days away now. Salish Sea and silver skies seem more real and reliable in their help than endless officials on phones, who could care less that tick-borne infections are now estimated at FOUR TIMES the numbers of HIV/AIDS cases in North America.
It's impossible not to feel the heaviness of this year, ten years since 2001...ten years since we lost the heart of Gotham, our old and beloved home, due to terrorism...ten years since we lost our life-savings and our home on Crescent Lake in Gig Harbor, due to our naivete about septic systems and crooks who would kill a lake for profit...and ten years since I drove Anna to British Columbia, to Dr. Ernie Murakami, now Canada's leading Lyme specialist, who clinically diagnosed her with Lyme disease and co-infections, though it would be two more years before inadequate testing would finally show positive and Anna would be officially counted as a Lyme disease case in Washington, number three.
Spring is coming, dear neighbours. I know we're not done with storms, hold onto your hats, hold onto your truth, and hold onto friends strong enough to face it all with you...sittin' on the dock of the bay...watchin' the tide roll away....