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Monday, June 30, 2008

15- SO...WHAT IS LOVE? II.....

"You keep such a mess around your chair, Florence. How do you find anything?"
"Now, Lorraine, I like to keep special things close to me."
Both sisters were 80-something, with Florence being a year older. They had lived in the same home that their father had built back in the late 1800s. The two-story white frame house by a creek in the older Westend section of the Valley town was still in good shape. A small bridge crossed in front, with a front yard and cool porch in the summer from huge maple trees. A white picket fence, in need of repairs, seemed to guard the entrance.
Imagine two sisters living under the same roof for over 80 years, with both now invalids, using walkers that they called "Model-T" and "Cadillac." Florence barely made her way around downstairs with her early Ford. She was the only sister able to get as far as the kitchen. Someone came each day to tidy up and prepare a cold lunch and a hot supper, knowing that the two, for years, would not agree to practically anything. However, the two sisters resolved, each day, to eventually eating whatever the caretaker prepared...maybe.
"I'm not eating her macaroni and cheese for supper, tonight!"
"Well, I want mac and cheddar cheese, baked, for supper tonight!"
Both had their own overstuffed armchairs downstairs in the living room, close to the floor furnace register. The upstairs, with a bathroom that had an old-fashioned clawfoot tub and three bedrooms, had long been off their visit list; the stairs were simply too steep to climb.
But one morning, in a December, Florence awoke, with the telephone always next to her, and called 911. She was taken quickly to the hospital. Lorraine remained behind in her overstuffed chair, not understanding any of the commotion.
Friends, some going to the hospital and others to the old home in the Westend, kept a vigil on both. Lorraine never spoke a word for five days, just gazing straight ahead.
Well, Florence made it, though, and was brought back home, over the little creek with a simple bridge and carried into the living room by two husky men and gently lowered into her familiar overstuffed armchair...and home. She enjoyed that attention but continued to guard her phone, though.
Lorraine intently followed the entire process with her curious eyes, not missing any of the return of her older sister. But, unknown to Florence, there were tiny tears streaming down Lorraine's aged, wrinkled face....and then a tiny smile. Both dined on homemade baked mac and cheddar cheese that evening, and they ate slowly and without a word.
And that's what I believe love...is. III is around the corner!
Ready for an adventure in spelunking, spelunkers? And a harrowing moment or three deep inside a "wild" Valley cave? Ah, adventures!

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