Thursday, September 11, 2008

Day 31 on Lexapro.

Day 8 on Lamictal.

written ?? days later.

posted 2 weeks later.

It’s knowing that your door is always open/
And  your path is free to walk/
That makes me tend to leave my sleeping bag/
Rolled up and stashed behind your couch.

By the time we arrived at my cousin’s house this morning, we had all been up for 24 hours. As a result, we slept as much as we could. I know there were two naps that lasted several hours. I needed them desperately and thoroughly enjoyed resting without any responsibilities weighing on my mind. I was far from home. There was nothing I could do from this distance.

Em had slept in the car the night before. She was somewhat well rested and enjoyed having fun with my family while I caught up on sleep. It was such a delicious feeling to get that much rest.

For dinner, we ate chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, and the best cantaloupe I ever tasted.

Evacuation, it seemed, was not going to be so bad.

**********************************

That night, after everyone else had gone to bed, my cousin and I sat watching the hurricane coverage. It was all over the news and I was glued to the screen.

“It’s sad about your husband,” she said, looking up from the news.

For a split second, my body tensed. It had been a long time since we had been to to her house. I couldn’t remember how he had acted then. Either it had been very good or very bad. Those were the flavors he offered.

“I never would have guessed there was anything wrong,” she continued. “The last time ya’ll were up here, he was so sweet and helpful.”

“Yeah,” I replied, sinking back into the sofa. “It’s a terrible situation.”

We continued to watch the footage until it was time to go to bed. I knew the next morning would bring more definite news. The hurricane was expected to make landfall the next evening.

Ike was on his way.

**********************************

And it’s knowing I’m not shackled
By forgotten words and bonds/
And the ink stains that have dried upon some line/
That keeps you in the back roads/
By the rivers of my memory/
That keeps you ever gentle on my mind.

– Gentle on My Mind