Deidra Alexander's Blog

June 27

Item # 4 – Silk ivy in the brass pot

I keep it in the kitchen. Logan, this is yours. You were in second grade and having so much trouble learning to read. Your teacher gave each student a ticket for reading five pages. At the end of the year, she had an auction. You had the least number of tickets. At the beginning of the auction, you spotted this plant and wanted to get it for me.

You saved all your tickets, scared someone would out bid you. After you brought me the plant, I took you out for an ice cream sundae, just the two of us. I know you don’t remember, but this plant has been my favorite plant living, dried or silk ever since.

***

 I’ve decided to write Logan a letter. I remember how Allie was so desperate to read Dad’s will. Everyone kept telling her there was nothing in it, just standard legal jargon. As a matter of fact, it read like a form letter.

She had been hoping her Daddy had left her a message. Some personal indication of how he felt about her.

I think she’s still searching for that acceptance, even today.

I want to be sure I leave that for Logan and Allie, too. I don’t want Logan to have to wonder. I want him to know for certain how I feel about him. There are so many things I wanted Logan to know – that I’m proud of him and I love him.

I want to write him a letter for when that first girl breaks his heart, when he graduates from college, gets married, and has his first baby.

I want him to know that pain does not last forever, but love does. Cherish the little things. Money does not matter. Do what you love, because life is too short to work for money. In the end; memories are what you long for. Stay close to your family, because that’s all you’ve got and when everyone and everything seems to abandon you, you’ll know they’ll still be there for you. And if I can’t be there for you, you can depend on your Aunt. These are things I wish I had learned earlier.

June 25

Charlie received a letter from a colleague he had traveled with. When the group bringing medications returned to a village, they found most of the twenty some odd inhabitants dead or dying. They did what they could to try to ease the suffering and save those that weren’t too far gone. However, they arrived too late. They were only able to save two of the twenty. Eighteen were lost. It really wasn’t a village as much as a cemetery now.

I feel guilty for hijacking Charlie from these people. He’s so close to finding a solution. I watched as he finally resigned himself to moving their pictures from the right side of his board to the left. He took each picture, stared intently at the smiling face and then tacked it on the left side.

He left his office, quietly shutting the door and began preparing me tea and crackers. He shut the door on his dream, his promises and his friends. I called Allie; I couldn’t let him do it. I couldn’t let him do what I had done. I have to find a way for him to continue his work. I am not going to be the reason he had to quit.

Allie took Charlie aside. She had a list all of my treatment and doctors’ appointments. She had names by each appointment date and phone numbers. Some I knew and some I didn’t. She had organized volunteers, so that Charlie didn’t have to choose between me and his work. Of course Allie’s name appeared almost daily.

She told Charlie she didn’t want him getting sick trying to handle it all. That he needed a break too. He was already looking exhausted and stressed. She knew he wouldn’t ask, so she decided to help him out.

I insisted he go back to work on his project. People were depending on him. At first he seemed reluctant and then relieved.

When did Allie become someone who I could trust with sensitive issues? When did she start thinking beyond herself? Sometimes, given a challenge people rise to the occasion and even go beyond your expectations. Beyond what you or even they thought they were capable of. I’m glad Allie turned out to be one of those people.

June 22

I wanted to paint today, maybe even paint my vegetable garden. I call it my garden, but it turns out I’m in it less than everyone else.  I can see it from my window lying in bed. Everyday Charlie or Logan drag the sprinkler around to water rows of lettuce and cabbages, tomato plants in wire cages, herbs of every sort, and corn stalks waving in the breeze.

Today must have been Allie’s turn. While Charlie was making tea, Allie was dragging the garden hose around. Dressed in a brown skirt, orange sweater set, and heeled sandals, she tromped around in the dirt and mud. Usually the sight of her in a skirt and mud would have made me laugh. Today I’m just thankful to have her.

Once she completed her chore, she came bearing tea. I guess Charlie thought if Allie brought it, I might drink more. It doesn’t matter who brings it, the result is the same. I’m already tired of the concerned looks. But, I’m determined to make a good effort. However my mind had other thoughts. Every time I tried to reach for the cup, I missed as if I couldn’t bring myself to take it. After a few failed attempts, Allie pushed the cup into my hand, holding it there for a few minutes while I secured my grasp.

She sat next to me, shoving another pillow behind me to help prop me up. She clutched my hand so tightly I could feel her desperation.

“Remember how I’d wait for you by the school yard gate?” I asked.

“And we’d walk home together. Sure.”

“Those girls, who pushed you around, pulled your hair, and called you names, like Red Head Fred.”

“Not when my big Sis was around,” she said.

I reminded her of the time I lost her or at least thought I had lost her. I’ve never been so scared. I ran around looking for Allie for what seemed like hours. I found her playing hopscotch with those girls like they were best friends. I was so angry. She scared me to death. I don’t know why I keep thinking about it.

I still remember the look on Allie’s face when I was screaming. I don’t know why I did that.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you. It was stupid,” I told Allie.

“I’m sorry I scared you.”

“I’m sorry I’m scaring you now,” I whispered.

Allie tightened her grasp on my hand.

“You’re cutting of my circulation, Carrot Top,” I said, wincing.

She laughed. It was good to hear her laugh again. I haven’t heard her laugh since that day at the sushi restaurant.