Rain

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

It was raining heavily and the wind was blowing hard this afternoon. At four p.m. we decided to go to the mall for a walk. It was one of those stupid things that only made sense if you were "in the moment".
       And that was what we did this afternoon, the same way as we washed our car on January 21, 1994 on the way home after dinner. Chicago, January, late evening. Snow flurries whirling around, soapy foam flying, fingers freezing.
       That night, at the car wash, we were happy. We celebrated our togetherness.
       We went to the mall today after the visit of the hospice nurse. She left me with a copy of Caregiver Handbook.   
       When we came out of the mall, the rain had eased a little. A young woman with a girl about four holding a shopping bag over her head and a boy in the stroller were going out in the rain. I offered her my umbrella. She said, "Oh no. But thank you." I walked with her holding the umbrella over her. I was getting wet. She settled the kids in the car seats and put the stroller in the trunk. John brought our car over. I got in our car. Cold air on my wet shirt gave me a shiver. Great! All I need now is pneumonia.