Remembering a Visit

Etty ... You are very brave ... and very open. It can't have been easy to write that.

I don't really know how to follow that last post. Writing about my little runs seems somehow trite and facile, by comparison with such larger questions.

I am reminded of my last visit to Arizona, though, about four or five years ago. You had all been home for Christmas and then you went back and just seemed, even from across the miles, to be getting sicker and sicker. In the end, I organised a surprise visit through your Hubby. Gosh, we had some good fun plotting, he and I. Most of the time, when visiting Etty in Arizona, it entailed an overnight stay in Phoenix. So, I did that. On the following morning then, I picked up a rental from the airport and headed up the mountains. It was such an adventure on my own. Part of the fun was ringing Hubby (Etty's) on a Saturday, when he would be at home and surrounded by Etty and kids and trying to talk to me without letting on to them that I was on my way. He would talk to me as if I were an engineer digging for water (related to his work). So, He'd ask 'How much further' or 'Did you find anything yet?' and other questions that were nonsense to me, but I knew the drill (sorry!)  while I gave him location and expected time of arrival. It worked, noone suspected a thing. 

That was fine, except when I arrived into the Circle or estate and at the house, Etty was outside by herself tending to her plot of Spring flowers. I didn't want to cheat Hubby of the arrival, so I drove around again. There she was still, weeding and clearing to her heart's content, and no Hubby to be seen. There was nothing for it, but to hoot the horn and alert him to my arrival. In that part of the world, tooting the horn was not really the done thing. The kids were soon on the doorstep, Hubby guessed and was out with the video camera. Etty stood looking at the blue saloon car, wondering who could it possibly be. Most people in the area drove larger 4 x 4s or cars to cope with the mountains and families.  I can still see her expression when I stepped out. She was absolutely stunned. I think it was one of my best kept secrets ever. Needless to say, we shed a tear or two.

What I am really warming up to, though, is my departure. It was a great visit, easy going, ordinary and loads of time spent with Little Guy who despite being only 18 months and depending on sign language to communicate was just the best company ever. By the way, he was the only other person who knew the secret. Hubby admitted that he had to tell someone and knowing that Little Guy wasn't able to tell, whispered it to him one evening while changing for bed. Lucky there wasn't a baby monitor! The other two were in school and I did the aunty visit to the School. But Little Guy was at home and so I had some good times with him. That's when he used to sign 'leaf' for 'Niamh' which fascinated me. One morning, there was a little knock on the door and Etty told me later that he was outside signing 'Aunty Leaf'.  As I have said before, he intrigued me because despite his inability to speak, it was fairly easy most of the time to know what was going on. By the way, he talks plenty now!

Anyway, back to the trigger for this reminscence.  On the Sunday we went to Church. Etty and family were very active in White River, as she said. I was surprised, though, when the local pastor asked her if he could pray over her, without giving much reason. I was more than surprised, I was also troubled. He too could see what was prompting my worried visit to White Mountains.  I'm not an unbeliever, I just struggle a bit with faith and the language and, in truth, I'm not sure what I believe. I like to keep it a bit nebulous for myself. I believe in graced moments, but I'm a bit cautious about the miracle thing. That said, the following day, Etty went to her local physician who, finally, acknowledged that Etty was sicker at that point than he could manage. It was on the day I was leaving. From there, Etty's appointments with the specialist in Denver began and, certainly, some improvement came. Sometimes, despite my tough attitude to miracles, I wonder about the prayers or was Fr. Eddie and I and her physician and whoever else just recognising some real sickness in her?

I know that I have said this to one or two people in the past, but leaving Etty that day was one of the hardest things. I didn't know if I should extend my stay, but was conscious of my own commitments. She came in from the doctor and just sat. She was kind of blown away. Etty, you were so thin that time too. To hug you, was to hug bone and, let's be real, we're not small women.  The other memory of that day was the bag of coffee! Despite all this distress, or because of it, I spilled ground coffee over the counter, into the cutlery drawer, down the side of the cooker ... everywhere. It didn't do the decent thing and fall into a heap in the middle of the floor, no, that would be too neat. It just seemed to find every crevice, every nook and cranny. (Jeepers, 'tis almost a metaphor for that blinking Sarcoidosis which seems to be all pervasive.)  Etty would tell me, laughing, that she found more of it, for quite awhile afterwards. I suspect the new owners will even find coffee grains in the kitchen ... whoever they might be. So much for being helpful!

Prayers, faith, healing ... just your post triggered that memory for me. I want to write about other runners and projects, but I have been thinking of you a lot since your last post, as I trot my little circles. My runs are shorter again, so I am back to little circles within the larger local circle. Take care.