After the Farmers Market

Then my son, Nick, showed up with his girlfriend, Jessica. And we visited each booth, buying something from all of them, which I hope I will remember to cook. Great sweet corn (13 – the wonderful Baker’s Dozen!! Like from my childhood with Bill X at the IGA – the Black and White market.)

My brain won’t let go of stuffed cabbages, which wears me down. I love to eat. I love to cook, but it is so much harder now. That I pulled off 2 dinners for Ron and Stu and Beth is nothing short of a miracle. Of course, I had to be in bed 2 days to pay for it.

So many things were so easy. Cooking, baking, speeches, manning booths across the country. And now I look at the 3M tiny notes on my mirror. Brush teeth. It moves to the middle mirror after I have done that. Take Shower moves back to the top of the leftmost mirror. Take pills moves from 1 to 2 to 3 and back to 1 for the end of the day.

The most productive thing I do now is moving the notes on the mirror each day. And I was one to level mountains, cross oceans, thriving on challenges and … succeeding. Today, Lord, it is enough to get out of bed, log in to Face Book, plow a virtual farm or two. Not what I thought I would be doing, but – loving you – I know this is important for some reason.

Losing my job. Being hospitalized. Going bankrupt. There is a reason that I don’t know, I am sure. But I embrace and accept the dance of these last days.

Thank you, God, for asking me to dance with you. You are the best. And I will follow you, I promise.

Love, Vicki