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Awake in the Very Early Morning

I awoke before dawn from a dream. In the dream I drove my little truck down a steep dirt slope to the river, thinking that there was a less steep way to drive back out. Once down there I found that I could not drive back out with my mere two wheel drive; all the routes back up to the road were steep enough to roll me over endwise. After each attempt my truck would slide all the way into the river and nearly choke off, but I was able to drive it back out of the water. I saw a jeep trying to ford the tributary stream just upstream from the beach where my truck was trapped, and the jeep got swept into the river and stopped just before it was taken downstream.

I was grateful when I awoke far enough to realized that my truck was not really trapped, it was just a dream. I've been awake ever since. The roosters across the Dell started crowing at least an hour before first light. Now we're on 9th or 10th light---the black turned to a glow, then to blue, and the clouds are lit from the bottom now, but the sun is not up yet. The roosters are still going off, more voiciferously than ever. I usually don't hear the roosters---I am usually asleep this time of day.

I meowed at the cat and she woke up, came and said hi, and sat on the windowsill watching the dawn with me. Then she dropped off the sill into the morning moisture and was gone. At this point I believe I will leave her here at the Barn until I can come back for her, or until someone drives my way and can bring her. My neighbors in the Barn are going to take this apartment, and will keep her food and water bowls where they are. I will miss her but it will be easier on both of us. Easier on me finding a place to live without a living being trapped in my truck, and easier on her not being in a cage in a truck in a strange place for a week or more. I hope I can find a place at the end of the road and near the river where she can climb trees and catch birds and be the happy outdoor cat that she is here.

I've had the runs for the last couple of days, and it seems to have nothing to do with what I eat. I think it is nerves. I think my gut is responding to the stress of moving, a death in the family, and everything that I had done to myself in recent times. I used to have a "gut of steel" that was never disturbed by anything, and always slightly constipated. Now it's the opposite. My gut is sensitive, easily altered by my emotions and running loose. I have read that moving is more stressful than a death in the family, but for me the world delivers both together.

Today after work some friends of aughraseye are coming to get my bed. My truck is about 1/4 full of things to be stored. I have given away a few more plants. I have a bottle of wine that I didn't open yesterday. I had thought to have a small gathering on the back porch of the barn, but in the end only two girlfriends came over, hours apart from each other, to say goodbye.


( 6 comments — Leave a comment )
Aug. 20th, 2007 02:05 pm (UTC)
Sorry to hear about your belly. I can relate - mine is ruled by my stress levels, it seems. Is this the first family member you have lost, that you can recall? Do you have good memories of this grandmother? I have not heard you talk about her except to say what a bitter person she was. When somebody dies that old, I like to think about their life in retrospect - what things were like in the world when they grew up, what sorts of opportunities they had in their lifetime, the changes they saw through the years. Not many of us will get the chance to live nearly a century. It's something to celebrate, rather than grieve, in my view.

Hope your last day at work goes well!
Aug. 20th, 2007 06:28 pm (UTC)
Oh my grandma was what she was, did her best with what she got, lived a long time and died because she was ready to. She was my last surviving grandparent, certainly not the first family member to die. She was close to me mainly because my father was close to her. She influenced everything about our family life. I don't rose-color her life, but I do understand that there were reasons for everything about her. She was a fierce and determined woman who lost her joy in life when she lost her independence and her opportunity to be creative in the world. She has taught me many lessons, and I'm sure there are still some to learn.
Aug. 20th, 2007 03:18 pm (UTC)
tough times
I'm not surprised that your body is having a tough time. Usually when you reach a certain stress level, your body reacts to let you know that things need to change, so you can try to amp life down. I hope that once you get on the road and get driving that things will amp down for you. Moving is stressful- I'll attest to that. Moving to start school, leaving a steady job, and ending up in a place where you're uncertain about living quarters is stress X 5. I'm sure the cat issue hasn't been a mental picnic, either. Please call me if you need to chat, at any time.
Aug. 20th, 2007 06:16 pm (UTC)
Re: tough times
Thanks, friend. You're the best. I'll call sometime....
Aug. 20th, 2007 08:42 pm (UTC)
My last grandmother was 104 when she died. She was with her loved ones when passing. She slept a lot in the end. When she awoke she always asked where her poppa had gone, he had been here just moments ago. I think the dead welcome us to the next life. I can never remember her talking about her past she always wanted to hear about my future. Where I had been and going. Dad tells me that she remembered Native Americans walking around the river town she was from and her dad owned a drygoods store but pictures I have seen of him he wore a pistol on his side. She always had her box of pictures near her.
Aug. 20th, 2007 11:25 pm (UTC)
Re: death
Wow, that's an amazingly ripe old age! You must have good genes. What happened to that box of pictures?

My grandma left her body before it died, according to my dad. She was glassy eyed and "gone" for a couple of days before she stopped living.
( 6 comments — Leave a comment )



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