1. My tiny family, small house, little life. I have been away too much this past year, making a trip to Oregon about every 3-4 months and staying each time for multiple days. The first time, that awful time when I went out to check on my dad’s health only to discover he was actively dying and needed at home hospice care, was the longest I had been away from Eric in the 31 years we’ve been married. Each trip that followed, except for the one in May when he and Ringo came with me, have been roughly the same amount of time away and similarly difficult. While I set the intention every time I go to show up, keep my heart open and really be there, I find that as soon as I arrive, my brain (and heart?) starts its ongoing chant: I want to go home.

2. Eric. When my dad was dying but still present enough to have a conversation of sorts, he asked me “Do you ever get tired of being with Eric?” I told him, “No, he’s my favorite person.” My dad responded, “I thought so.” Two days ago would have been my mom and dad’s 60th wedding anniversary, and while I aspire to that kind of longevity, when choosing a life partner I sought something very different than the marriage and life they had — and found it. Even though Eric is essentially working two jobs right now, he was still willing to let me leave, again, and take care of everything here while I was away — especially Ringo, who is the definition of “high maintenance.” He’s my soft place to land. 

3. Ringo Blue. I read an article recently about the two easiest dog breeds to train, and Australian Cattle Dogs were one of the two. The article included a pretty funny disclaimer (funny because it’s true): “They’re smart, they’re motivated by praise, they’re motivated by toys, motivated by treats, you can teach them anything, [but] they’re not easy to live with. They are high drive, they’re intense, they want to work and be busy; they’re very, very difficult to live with.” He did one of my favorite things while I was away — found a toy on his walk and carried it all the way home. 

4. Cooking and eating good food. When things are hard and I don’t know what else to do, I feed people. Mom hasn’t been too excited about eating recently because people have stopped bringing meals and it’s hard when you are caretaking to prioritize making a delicious meal because there’s just so much else to do and you are tired and if you didn’t plan ahead you are limited to the ingredients on hand and maybe you don’t have much cooking experience. So while I was there, I made sure to make some good food, things I know she likes, such as apple crisp and a fried chicken dinner with mashed potatoes and roasted carrots. One of my nieces also had a birthday that week and the other one had just had one the month before, so I made dessert — chocolate cupcakes for one and a vanilla cake for the other along with two kinds of ice cream, (They had Umpqua maple nut ice cream in Oregon! I can’t even find black walnut ice cream anymore in Colorado). I also have weird rituals about what I eat when I travel, like airport fast food and lots of snacks. 

5. Practice. I was able to meditate, do a bit of yoga, and write morning pages while I was there, and that really helped me cope with a lot of big feelings and complicated, uncomfortable situations. I really notice the benefit of practice when I’m in a situation that requires a lot of patience and I’m able to sit with it and not freak out — such as the 4.5 hours I spend in the ER with my mom one evening or the 47 Hallmark movies I watched or all the times I repeated an answer to a question Mom had already asked 14 times or the “hurry up and wait” nature of traveling.

Bonus joy: the people who texted and messaged me and checked in while I was gone, the people who remembered the two tender anniversaries that happened while I was there, finding four assisted living/memory care places where I would feel good moving Mom, tying up loose ends, seeing the littles, hugging my nieces, hanging out with my brother and having his help doing some hard things, Mom’s wobbly soprano when she sang along to the music mix I’d made for Dad after he died, how Dad’s death healed parts of our history that never could have resolved with him still here, chicken strips, a crispy tart Gala apple, other people’s dogs, the Hallmark channel (Mom never really watched a lot of TV, but now that she can no longer read and isn’t as mobile, this channel soothes and entertains her no matter her mental state at any given time and I’m so grateful for that — there’s even an actor that we call “her Hallmark boyfriend”), Mom’s caregivers, gummies, the sunflowers Eric bought me, my own bed, texting, reading in bed at night while Eric and Ringo sleep,