Two walks and a long winter

This Thursday will be the 6 month anniversary of the day that K became profoundly ill and our lives changed. Last Thursday, I went to a hotel for a night. I believe it was the second time I’ve left my neighborhood since September. It may be the third but I cannot remember the second, if so. It was a last-minute decision; two days before I went, I had the feeling that I absolutely had to get out. Or else.

I planned on ordering room service and watching a lot of Netflix but to my surprise, I couldn’t stand to add noise to the quiet room and instead spent my time reading a lovely Hungarian novel and ordering in vegan sushi and sticky toffee pudding. It was the particular bliss of doing exactly what I wanted.

It was my assumption that F, who just recently turned 2, was not yet oriented in time. I thought he might sense my absence but when I returned, he would forget it ever happened. I was wrong. After I got home Friday afternoon, I went to his room to get him up from his nap. Usually, he dozes after I enter, opening an eye occasionally to make sure I am still sitting on his old plaid chair. But this time, he spotted me and instantly scrambled up, tripping over his own blanket, desperate to get to me. He clung to my face and my hair for thirty minutes. In the days since, his devotion has not wavered. He follows me around the house intoning, “come me” (come me = come with me = come with you).

On Saturday morning we attempted a family outing to visit the tiny zoo in a nearby park. David parked the car with both kids near the zoo while I traveled by wheelchair, meeting them (easier to not load my chair in our trailer). K, unfortunately, could not manage the outing and had to return home only minutes after exiting the car. While David attended to her, F and I departed. The temperatures were barely above freezing so I wore my puffy pants (thanks Amelia), my puffy coat, and my giant faux fur boots. F was in head-to-toe fleece.

We (really I) decided to take the long way home, arcing through a cute shopping area and making our way back. The map tells me that we covered 3 miles together. I had half a miso toffee cookie left from the hotel and F and I shared that as we went. We looked at dogs and trees and wondered when the flowers might come back. It’s been so gray for so long. We dropped a mitten and people rushed to hand it to us. A woman mentioned that F looked cozy and in his little bird voice, he repeated the word for another two blocks. Cozy cozy cozy.

Every few minutes, I moved his hood, and kissed his ear to get a sense of if he was warm enough. About twenty minutes in, I gave him my hat. He pulled it over his eyes and giggled at his cleverness. We sang a few songs. Waiting at a light, alternating cookie bites with him, I had the feeling that I was getting away with something riding around on my chair, with my buddy on my lap chirping his tiny bird commentary.

Today, F and I took another walk. We traveled west to a river. It was damp out but warmer. We both wore sweatpants with our jackets. Hats and mittens. I packed some cookies that I had baked that afternoon. I asked if he wanted to see some nature. Nature nature nature, he whispered. Before we had gone even a block, we ran into a neighbor. She said that she had purchased some seeds and was growing some flowers in her house for us. “They are my favorite, purple and blue. May 17 is my son’s birthday. On that day I will plant them in front of your house.”

After she continued on, F repeated the word flowers. We looked at the gray sky and the wet branches and the brown grass and I said that, believe it or not, things will be different soon. I told him that first we will see crocuses and then daffodils and then tulips. I said that we will have blue and purple flowers climbing our trellis. There will be so many colors here. He repeated the last word of each of my sentences. My dumpling parrot.

We made our way to the river and watched the water. The colors were muted but the water was moving. We shared a cookie (chocolate chip cookie dough with no chips because they hurt my stomach). We drank some water, his tiny throat pulsing with his gulps. I kissed it and gave him my scarf. Along the river, the paved path turned to gravel and we tried to cross to another paved path but got stuck in the mud. A man took out his airpods and pushed us free, with a great deal of effort.

A woman stopped and said he was very lucky to have me. She said he had pretty eyes and he touched his eyes and then while he was at it, showed her his shoulders, belly, knees, and toes. We got colder, and turned to go home. Singing and repeating what we’d do when we made it (crackers, blocks, Daddy, puppy).

And then, a few minutes from the end, he coughed a little so I stopped to give him more water. While he sipped I looked down and I couldn’t believe it. There was a crocus leaf poking out of a neighbor’s mulch. I would know that green anywhere.

It’s been a long winter. But it can’t last forever.