Yard Work

 Bob trusted me enough to die.

How's that for an opening?  I was doing yardwork today.  I like yardwork - it's like therapy, keeping your hands and body busy and letting the mind wander a bit.

I remember just at two years ago, still in the first three weeks of losing him, being out in the yard one day, crying, because not only did I miss him desperately but I didn't know how I could keep living out here.  Thinking that somehow I would have to give up, pack up the necessities, turn everything over to an estate sale business, and move into town.  Because how could I possibly keep the place up?  The idea of moving terrified me (still does).  My heart is with my land.

I've written before about keeping the place up, and the timeline.  Hurricane Michael in October 2018 (already 3 1/2 years!).  Took us six months to get the yard debris cleared up.  By then the garden and the usual maintenance had fallen in arrears.  But he got diagnosed, and cancer is very time consuming.

I only used the riding lawnmower once.  It feels a little insecure on our uneven ground (and I will always remember the day that Bob came in with the top of his croc sliced off because he stepped off the lawnmower before the blade had quit moving.  And because of our uneven ground the blades would hit the ground from time to time.  I keep the place up with my trusty battery weed whacker and hand tools.

Yeah - battery weed whacker.  How pragmatic/practical is that?  After Bob got diagnosed and we knew he'd be in the hospital/rehab for awhile, we went and got me a really nice battery weed whacker because I'm no good at small engines.  They're heavy and need maintenance and I have problems with pull cords.  But you deal with the problems you can solve.  Might not be able to handle the leukemia, but can make the yard work easier for me.

So two years later - I look around, and yes, there is always work to be done.  Because things grow.  But honestly - it looks as good as it did before the storm.  If I'm honest, better (see earlier posts about the shed and crap behind the barn being gone).

I'm doing OK.  So I can keep my land.

Which takes me to my opening line.    Amanda, being a nurse, is too familiar with people dying.  She said what is really too sad is watching people who hang on, fighting it, living longer than they should.  And yes, you can suppress death, the way you can suppress a sneeze.  Death rates jump just after Christmas because people try to hang on until then, or until any other significant date.  So people struggle to live, because of their obligations.  She said it's even worse when the family, especially the spouse, is begging them to live.  "I can't live without you.  What will happen to me if you're not there to take care of me?"  Nothing like laying a guilt trip on someone who's dying.

That didn't happen with us.  Bob knew I was competent, could take care of things.  He knew I could physically survive without him.  After he made his decision, when he realized that the idea of surviving was more frightening than the idea of dying, he could relax and let go in peace.  I didn't try to hang onto him.  He trusted me.  He knew I would take care of things.  He could have peace.

So that's what working outside does more me.  I was going to tackle some of the perimeter today, beat back the woods that are creeping in.  But I decided to liberate the lemon tree instead.  Poor thing - the feral bamboo tries to grow up through it, and then the whole thing gets covered with the Virginia Creeper.  So I cut and hacked and pulled and dragged and after a couple of hours had it clear (at least for now).  I'll let it dry out for a week or two and then burn it.  At least it was a sweet smelling job; the tree is in bloom now and citrus blossoms are heavenly.

This pile just to rescue the tree

All in all, a good day.  A "bits and pieces" day, doing stuff like replacing the batteries in the smoke detector and grooming the cats (well, at least one of them).  A nice chat with my brother.  Having coffee and reading outside by the hummingbird feeder (therefore having to interrupt the reading every few minutes to watch one feed).  Chat with my new insurance agent.  Setting up a car appointment.

Oh, yeah - the car appointment.  I'm still getting used to being single.  Things are more complicated now.  Last week I took the car in for an oil change.  They told me there was a factor recall on the fuel pump so I would have to bring the car in and leave it.  I start to make the appointment, but then have to stop and think.  What to do about me?  It's never been a problem before.  Bob and I would drive the car and the truck in, drop off the car, and then go home or run errands or whatever.  That's no longer an option.  In The Before Times, the car place would have a courtesy van to give a ride home or wherever, but that went out with Covid.   I told them I would call later when I had a ride figured out.

Might be time to learn how to use Uber.  But then it hit me - one of the animal keepers lives within a couple of miles of the car place.  Why not take the car in on one of my work days, have her pick me up there to go to work, and drop me off afterwards.  Shelby is a sweetheart and is happy to do me a favor.  Problem solved.  It's just something that's never been a problem before.

But I can take care of things.