Routine Life

The heat broke. A nice breeze comes in the opened kitchen window and the one by the fire escape. I hear the 7 train as it rattles over the overhead tracks at 82nd Street some blocks away.

Our lovely vacation is over, and Laurence has returned to work at Elmhurst Hospital. He messaged me yesterday: “I’m in MPC (Medical Primary Care) today, working with Joy.” 😊 He worked until 1 p.m., and then came home for a quick lunch before going to an eye appointment. Dr. Dayan, the surgeon, said that his eye is healing well. We figured it was but it is a relief to hear this from him. We’ve been somewhat ‘gun shy’ after how it went after the first surgery. It will be eight weeks tomorrow since the second surgery. The gas bubble in Laurence’s eye is still there, but it’s very small, and soon won’t be at all. 😊

Laurence could not have flown to Dad’s funeral even if it would have been a month later. I sometimes find it hard to grasp that he missed it. God knows. However, we as a family still feel incredibly blessed with the beauty and the timing of Dad’s passing.

That doesn’t mean we don’t miss him. I thought of Dad often on vacation. So many of the places we were, we had been with Dad. I can see Dad laughing at Wolfman with his rickety old car buzzing beside the train we rode at Clark’s Bears, and how Dad and Laurence walked one evening after hours to see the bears. I remembered that Dad said he was going to someday ride the cog train up Mt. Washington again, and how I lost every game we played in the old Saranac Lake cabin.

Life has returned to routine, to coffee in our bedroom first thing in the morning, and to long walks in the evening. I do laundry in the basement laundromat, and shop at the local grocery store on Wednesday when I get senior discount. Saturday is the farmer’s market. On Sunday, we worship at Sugar Hill. Laurence works 12 hours on Mondays. Tuesday the library opens at noon. On Thursdays, I write a thankful list. Friday, I pack a lunch for Saturday, I clean, and prepare something for Sunday dinner at the mission. Saturday evening, we figure out an ethnic restaurant to go to – often on Rockaway, and then we walk by the sea.

I appreciate and enjoy routine life. Berniece