foxfire 2

it's another friday- a day of work- a day to wear my other hat- and my white coat. to be reminded of my health and the blessing of helping other people.  and this week to be reminded again that i'm not God.


Mr. A who i'd visited last weekend at home, was in the hospital today. last week i told him he he couldn't go on his cruise.  and i was right about that.  but i also thought he was heading out of this world quickly- and i might have been wrong about that.  he does have terminal cancer and liver failure- but the body is a tricky thing and physicians are not God. 
he'd come in on wednesday as planned, to have the fluid drained from his belly - and in the time from when i'd seen him last saturday to wednesday, he'd gotten much worse and his belly had begun to hurt and he was infected. so when he got there he looked pretty sick and was admitted to the hospital.  he got fluid and antibiotics and scans and the nicotine patch and by the time i saw him today, he looked great, especially for a guy who i thought might not be here very long.

he smiled and gave me a giant hug and then he gave me the book he'd been promising. he'd remembered.  "Foxfire 2: ghost stories, spring wild plant foods, spinning and weaving, midwifing, burial customs, corn shuckin's, wagon making and more affairs of plain living."  basically everything you could ever need to know.  i can't wait to read it.  what makes this all even more special is that Mr. A can't read. he told me this early on in our visits together and i can't remember how it came about - if i asked him, or if he volunteered it, but i remember his eyes looking to the floor and his expression of shame.  i thanked him profusely for confiding in me as it greatly changes how i communicate with him.  each visit i go over all his meds- by color and shape and make sure he knows which is for what and when to take it- and i go over the written instructions with his daughter so she'll know.  his honesty enabled me to help him- and if i hadn't know, my ignorance would have interfered with his health care. 

i've often wondered about him.  his growing up.  why he can't read.  he's a smart guy.  he asks good questions.  he's done just fine in life.  was he like zoe but back in a time when schools didn't pay attention? when they blamed? when they didn't know what to do with students who struggled? or maybe he didn't go to school- maybe his parents didn't read.  i don't know.  but i know he values books.  he has lots of them on his shelves.  this book, Foxfire 2, smells of pall malls and it's pages are tinted yellow like his fingers. 

on the first page is a dedication.  copyright 1973.

"to high school kids all across this nation- all searching, all groping, all testing for the touchstone, the piece of serenity, the chunk of sense and place and purpose and humanity they can carry with them into a very confusing time."

isn't that what we're all looking for? isn't that what we spend lifetimes searching for?
these are still such confusing times. i'm not sure all the answers will be found in the pages of foxfire 2- but i like the start-i like the groping, the testing.

so i said goodbye to Mr. A again, hoping i'll see him soon.  i thanked him and asked him to sign my book. my little piece of serenity and purpose and humanity.