Autumn Corn

I drove through the mountain a new way today, the yellow color of the drying cornfields filled the air and cast everything in strange shadows. I thought of how I would photograph it, looking for a high spot in the mountains I was traveling, but even the hills were like alleys of corn, so I kept driving, my destination calling me. I can't afford to be artistic I told myself. My duty to my husband is all that matters now.

I know the wind howls sometimes on a fall night, but it seems odd to me tonight- it’s like it’s calling to me- and I would go out there if I didn’t feel so at home here. It nice to have a home that you feel at home in, that hasn’t happened in my life much. This new home suits me. I’m grateful for that. It has come at a price, but I’m wiling to pay it.

Here alone, or with Jim, isn’t much different. I’m very careful when he’s here because the delicate balance of our lives depends a lot on him. But when he isn’t here I still run my life according to his needs. I have to sleep after all, if I want to get up again and do it all over again.

Here, in this corner, I could almost convince myself that I’m centered and in control. It’s a pretend center because I intend to move this computer setup to another location when I get the house in order. This is only temporary, as is our current situation, him in the hospital, and me on the outside, providing support.

Yes, there are lots of things that you don’t count on when you get married. But if you love the person, or any form of the commitment that you made, you will accept the consequences of your association, you will find a way to get through whatever you are expected to do. It’s love. It’s not selfishness, so it is love.

Once again tonight soon I will let go of the night and prepare for what the morning brings. My step-daughter says she doesn’t understand how I do this without thinking about the possible outcomes; his death, our separation, the sadness and the loneliness that could follow. I tell her that I don’t think about it. And I don’t. Every day is a gift and I don’t take that lightly.

Tomorrow I will descend out of the mountains and ride along the golden corn fields to my destination beside him. I might even find a hilltop to photograph from, and I’ll take it as a gift, in the long list of blessings that I have enjoyed in my life. Like this moment right now, in the quiet night, almost tired enough to fall asleep.

Just a follow up to this little journal entry. My hubby had to spend some time in the hospital again. His heart is still not pumping as well as it should. It's a degenerative disease so we are learning to cope with the twists and turns of it.

Good news though, he came home yesterday. He is on new medication that seems to be working, and we are both very relieved to have our lives back.

I'm sorry for the vagueness of the story above. It was really a coping tool for me, a way to express the feelings without telling the whole story so it jumps around a bit.

We are also living in our new home, a mobile home that is unlike any that I've ever been in. It's nothing like that dire poem about trailers that I wrote a while back! It's on the top of a small mountain- so I wake up everyday with my head in the clouds- but that's nothing new really!

If anything, I really like the title of this piece. I'm thinking it would make a good poem.