Wide World
“Eating love,” is how Dane describes dinner from friends and neighbors.
Wide World
“Although we have not met you in person, we are part of a big community of people, holding you close to our hearts until you are all well again. With care & healing thoughts, Barbara and Bill.”
Slumped at the kitchen counter, Dane tears up as he reads me these words inside the get-well card. “This is real nice,” he says. It takes him a while to gather his composure.
Dane is on the road to recovery after a heart failure scare. For now, his options are slim: live with me or go to a nursing home. He can’t be alone.
While he was hospitalized for the past week, I’d been home for only quick in-and-out visits and half-night sleeps. The house wasn’t ready for a housemate. The downstairs guest room needed to be cleaned and the sheets washed. The refrigerator needed old foods tossed out and a solid wiping down. It was also time to weatherize the animal pens. Dane would need 24/7 care, and it had to start as soon as he walked in the door.
After a few phone calls, the community answered.
Even before then, the synergy was incredible. From the time I first shared Dane’s predicament, a chain of human kindness formed. Lisa booked me a room near the hospital for the night Dane was intubated, then brought me a bag full of clean clothes, enough food to last a month, and a notebook and pens. One day I was whisked away for a shower and a hot, healthy meal. A lovely card with heartfelt encouragement for Dane and me was hand-delivered by a member of the One Spirit Rising group, containing a gift of money for the hospital cafeteria, gas back and forth, and duck food. Later, when we were packing up Dane's belongings, an envelope slipped out of the notebook. "Sometimes I get to be the boss" was written on the outside. Inside was a gift of money.
I didn’t witness the home orchestration but Téte, the oldest canine, did.
It was crazy, Mom, I was barking most of the day! First Bonnie screeched into the driveway and flew into the house with her spatula and mop. She went in and out of the basement with armloads of sheets and even our blankies from the couch. Then Maureen came and let us out of the kennel while she raked up Louisa and the goats' big mess. (Did you know she takes their poop home for her garden?) Pretty soon Kristina showed up with armloads of food and attacked the refrigerator. (If you’re looking for Maude's hot dogs, they’re in our bellies. Yum!) She filled your cupboards with healthy foods to make Papa strong. Later she came back with a blood pressure machine and told us Papa has to use it once a day from now on. We got to meet Cowboy David, who dropped off a walker and a shower bench. Carole came with a gigantic bag of cat food (where’s ours?), Carol and Sara with chips for the sloppy flock, more cat food and litter (still no dog food!), and then Maureen put us back in the kennel—and it got real quiet.
Once settled in the car, Dane mentioned how good it felt to see the outside world again after a week in the hospital. Getting his discharge instructions, being outfitted with the LifeVest, having a shower, and putting his own clothes on left him exhausted. He was excited to get home, even if it was my home and not his—and my cats, not his. What a blessing to arrive here, grab the waiting walker, and bring Dane into a freshly cleaned and welcoming house full of well-wishing notes and even flowers next to his bed.
These days, we’re establishing a routine of biweekly visits from the rural nurse, thrice-weekly cardiac rehab appointments, visits from family, and the comfort of delicious dinners arranged by Joan.
This is our first experience being on this side of a meal train. Dane remarks each evening about the wonderful soups, salads, burritos, Mexican hash, chickpea curry, and blueberry crisps. “It’s like eating love.” Wholesome, organic meals fill more than our bellies.
Often, when Dane is feeling up to it, the cooks come in for a short visit. We’re amused each time Téte runs in and noses the bags, sniffing for dog food. When we say, “Not for you, girl,” she hangs her head and sulks away.
Each day brings more community care: cards, books, Pat dropping off low-sodium goodies, Geri and Steve offering an abundance of medical knowledge and nifty tools... Dane gets emotional over a hand-drawn picture from our youngest neighbor, Margo, tucked into a bag of goodies. Soon after, a package appears from a dear friend in Madison, full of self-care products for me and tea for Dane.
Today a check arrives inside a wonderful card. When Dane’s brother, Mark, comes to visit later, I drive to town, cash it, and buy a 50-pound bag of dog food. (Téte barks happily when I get home.) I also stop to see Kristen, who’s been cutting my hair for more than 23 years. This time she won’t accept any payment.
Tonight, as Dane and I settle into navigating this new life together, my heart is full of gratitude for what we all do here. We watch out for each other. We take care of each other.
Dane's options are few and his world, for now, is narrow, but the caring community that surrounds us makes it feel wide open and full of possibilities.