Travel

After four hours of sleep, I woke up. Knowing there would be no returning to sleep, unless it was detrimentally late, I got ready for my day and was on the road before seven. Miles went by quickly, as I watched exits heading to various beach cities. As I drove north, I was amazed at how quickly I had been able to travel by car. What took me a month by bicycle, took me less than 17 hours.

When I got into Portland, I drove immediately to Tia's work. There was a wine luncheon: a host of wine representatives bring various bottles to the restaurant. All the staff and owners of the restaurant were there. There were several pasta dishes, an eggplant dish (really amazing, honest to goodness, eggplant parmesan), and a few salads. Considering that the only food in had eaten in the past thirty hours was prepackages and/or very gringo (the kind of food that politely goes about minding it's business of being wholly uninterestingly edible), this was an amazing treat. Actually, even if I had been eating this stuff for days, it would still have been awesome.

Tia drove the long way from Portland to Wenatchee. Our route follows the broad Columbia River, a massive river, flecked with dams. The golden hills of the Columbia Plateau drop dramatically off into the river, and waterfalls dot the arid landscape. This is God's country. 

We played madlibs and told stories, wondered what we would find when we got to the hospital, complained that we don't want to do this, marveled at the unfairness of having to remove life-support from a parent not just once, but twice. 

Lisa called, in a dither about when we were going to be there. When I asked what was wrong she said, "I'm exhausted and cranky and I don't want to be here, and she isn't even dead yet!"

When we arrived in Wenatchee, we went to see dad. Mom and dad's apartment had been as full of junk as their old home. Mom has been lying to us for months about cleaning checks, visits by friends, home health care, etc... As Lisa showed us a few of the find from this new place, I recognize that each object was a replacement for something which she had lost from the old place. Such as: piles of paintings in frames, old broken jewelry, brass plates, various silver plate objects. All thing she had deemed of great value and had lost forever during our 'Big Dig.'

Lisa and I sat on the bed, chatting. Causally, I asked what she though was going to be our Christmas presents this year. She replied that she thought she had actually discovered them and produced a plastic bag filled with three jewelry boxes. On box had a smoky quarts pendant, another an adventuring pendant, and the last box, Lisa claimed for herself: a piece of petrified pooh. Mom knows us well.

Lisa tried hard to prepare us for our hospital visit, letting us know that mom wasn't able to move much, talk much, or communicate at all. And that mom was in sorry shape. But after we roped and gloved up, we walked in to discover a mom who looked like she was very peacefully sleeping. We talked to her a bit with no response whatsoever. My intuition told me that she knew we were talking to her, and when I mentioned Popsicles she started sucking her breathing tubes. Her heart rate had increased, and we, began noticing that her eyelids would blink if we asked her questions. We asked if we could have a bit of her her hair, and she started to cry. She calmed when I told her she wasn't going anywhere, but that we just wanted a piece of hair. Her mind is still present, but her body is failing miserably. She can't breath on her own any more.

Tomorrow, we are meeting over at the hospital to unplug her breathing tube. I'm not sure this is the best option. It hurts that her mind is still so sharp. She knew I was there, and it probably is killing her that she couldn't open her eyes to see me. Makes me really sad.