Getting Into the Spirit -- Oddly Enough

I left work at 2:00 yesterday afternoon (Friday -- Jewish school) and drove the four hours to my dad's and stepmom's, where I had a nice little dinner visit with them before she conked out.  She is 3/4 of the way through her daily radiation treatments for the cancer that has metatasized to her brain, and has lost her hair, her slim face, and almost every ounce of her energy.  It's hard to believe that she was canoeing the wilds of Canada three months ago -- this morning she protested my suggestion to take advantage of the beautiful weather with a walk out to the mailbox.

After dinner I went next door to my brother's.  He and his wife are actually living in my grandmother's house while building one of their own, which is almost ready for them.  His wife and I went off to see it -- another hour's round trip.  I can't say that I have any burning desire to live in either a development or a new house -- but theirs could change my mind.  It just sparkles -- oak floors, carpeting, glorious windows, a magnificent kitchen -- all shiny and new.  Just imagine -- choosing paint for a new living room instead of taking a sledgehammer to the wall to access the leaking pipe from the 90-year-old toilet above it (one of our upcoming projects)!  My brother and his wife have been in my grandmother's house for at least a couple of years.  They were hoping to purchase and renovate it, but that didn't work out.  I think they are going to enjoy this new home tremendously.

This morning I drove the extra hour to visit my 98-year-old grandmother in her assisted living apartment.  What a sad experience.  My grandmother and I have always been extremely close, but I'm not sure that she had any idea that anyone other than the nursing home staff was there.  She certainly had no idea who I was.  She is usually lucid and alert, but she has lost most of her hearing and vision and, if she's having a bad day, she seems to be in a completely altered state of consciousness.  In fact, that may be exactly what she's in -- she is apparently on antidepressant medication of some kind, and achieving the right dosage seems to be something of a challenge.  I felt so badly for her -- I had known that conversation would  be impossible, but I had hoped that she would recognize me and know that she was loved and cared for.

Onward -- a little shopping, another little visit with my family, and another four-hour drive.  I listened to a lot of Christmas music on the way home -- the Christmas portion of The Messiah, a CD of the King's College (Cambridge) choir singing some pretty old stuff, and even some of the popular music on a radio station that's switched to all Christmas.  (I'm not sure that I really count Elvis and Andy Williams but, whatever.)

I wished that I could have pulled off the interstate on the way home.  The most amazing sunset stretched across the sky behind me.  The sun went down as a fiery and golden ball, and then the horizon began to morph into a medly of oranges, pinks, purples, and finally, crimsons.  The stark black outlines of trees against the deeply colored sky was dramatically beautiful.

Something to listen to as you drive across the Midwest under a blazing evening sky: Once in Royal David's City.  This is a broadcast about the song, traditionally sung at the beginning of a Lessons and Carols service -- it was the best I could do, and it's actually quite interesting.  But I guess you will have to either go to a Lessons and Carols service or listen to one on CD or the radio to hear the song all the way through, from the a capella solo to the massive choir to the kettle drums.