Today was one of those days where life looks like Spaghetti Junction, where several major highways meet and cross up, outside Atlanta. That crazy place brings trepidation to my heart, any time we have to go through it. Ken still loves slinging our car to the outside of those curves, with me shrieking and cringing in full-pucker position. You'd think I'd learn to just be quiet and quit indulging his mangy-boy-creature self. It's a fact of life that all (or most) men have a 12-year-old wild boy still inside them. Now about taking that trash out...
Morning found me at the hospital with Ken's Daddy. Old age and the ravages of dementia are rapidly disconnecting him from the land of the living. When only a few weeks ago, he was able to at least string some sentences together, they now turn into the smallest of fragments, shredded and flaking away like snowflakes melting into the earth. I see this large, strong beast of a man reduced to child-like behavior, even the basic functions of eating and sleeping falling back to infanthood. He twists his blankets into knots, looking for some way out of the puzzle. Death comes to some simply. My MawMaw and Daddy died like kittens in their recliners, with their boots on. Not everyone gets that lucky. The future yawns in front of us, the unknown, the fear of it. I have to lay my heart before the Lord and ask for both mercy and wisdom for the days I know so little of. To worry is to lose today. Just stop that.
Afternoon found me on the other side of Newnan, with four of our grandchildren who needed me. We turned off the devices, ate muffins, took down the Christmas tree and danced to beautiful music. Well, Eden danced and we swayed, the baby turning in circles and making lots of noise. Then it started...
A fixer-upper listing of mine went viral and I was barraged with texts, emails and calls, ending up with nigh-a-dozen offers. Amazing -- a house with a bad roof, a kitchen with a caving-in floor and no updates since 1964 -- but it was hot property because it was a brick ranch in an up-and-coming part of town. I hoofed it back towards home, whipped into the Chick-Fil-A drive-through for dinner and inhaled my food while we decided which offer to take. 9:33 p.m. had us binding, with the dog at my feet and the cat curled up on my desk. I talked to my Mama for a spell and thought about the Twilight Zone that I live in sometimes. Spaghetti Junction, where there's too many carbs and a whole lotta sauce...
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