Saturday 10 Sept 2005
8:05 a.m.

Had half an entry written and the power went off (thunderstorm) and then flashed on again. But the entry was lost. Darn. I was sure I had most of it saved. Anyway, I’ll try again while I wait for Everett to get out of the tub and eat breakfast so we can head over to Karen’s. I want to work on my quilt and Everett is going to bring a cat or two back to repopulate the farm with felines so he’ll have some tame enough for cuddling.

My boy Emil, he loves loves loves little old ladies. Here he is with Aunt Jean, my great aunt, who is 91. We were just leaving the care home in Saskatoon and she had walked us to the locked door, as she always does.

She doesn’t like it there; hasn’t been there long, but although it provides all meals and cleaning, she doesn’t have the space or privacy she had in her last place. She’s also quite hard of hearing and her sight is poor, so it’s more difficult to form new friendships.

“I hope I don’t live much longer,” she told me. She was nestled into her lazyboy chair in the middle of her one-room abode, and I was sitting on her bed, leaning toward her.

“What? It sounds like you might be depressed,” I replied.

“No, no,” she insisted. “I just don’t think people should live so long. When you can’t hear and you can’t see, and you can’t do much of anything, what’s the point?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, “but it wouldn’t be unnatural to feel depressed right now. You don’t much like this new place. Are you lonely?”

“No no, I’m not lonely. Don’t worry about me.”

“You can always come and live with us, you know,” I said. “You don’t have to stay here. I’m always home.”

“You are not!”

“Well, pretty much I am! I could be if I needed to.”

“Hmph. Where would you put me?”

“We’d build you your own room, and bathroom.” Her main beef about the new place is that she doesn’t have a private bathroom. It is shared with a dozen others.

“You don’t want an old woman around all the time.”

“Why not? It’s not like you’re one of the cranky ones. You’re goodnatured and pleasant.”

“How do you know?” she laughed, and I laughed too.

“Yeah,” I came back, “you’re always on your best behaviour when I visit.”

“That’s right,” she said. Then, “Don’t worry about me. Judy’s invited me too; I have a place to go if I want to. But I’m all right here. It’ll take a little time to get used to.”

“Well, just remember what I said. You’re welcome with us any time.”

We don’t have our rotten deck replaced yet, let alone finding time and financing to add a room with a bathroom, but in my typical way I rush in where angels fear to tread and trust that a way will be found if there is the will and a need.