Friday, February 8, 2019

Snow City

Most people think pre-snow hysteria in Portland is ridiculous and I totally disagree. I think it is one of the best things about Portland.

All day today, everyone was buzzing. How much snow will we get? When will it come? How many days will the kids get off from school? How mad will we be if it just rains!?!  There was a current of excitement that went beyond usual Friday levels.

Biking home from work, I spotted people outside salting down their sidewalks while chatting with neighbors. Another man was awkwardly lying on the ground trying to put chains on his car. I stopped by the library to pick up some reading provisions to get us through the potential of consecutive homebound days. Packing up the books and getting back on my bike, an older woman, a complete stranger, approached me and gave me a hug for being out on a bike in this kind of weather, all to help our planet. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I love to bike so much, I might still do it if it increased greenhouse emissions. It's just a lucky twist of fate that biking helps me look like a heroine of the planet.

And I'm pretty sure people who live in the Midwest don't empty out their grocery stores at the threat of 2-4 inches.  It's all a part of the hysteria that makes Portland quirky. While pre-storm grocery shopping isn't exactly fun, it's definitely a memorable experience and a great reminder that our food isn't necessary limitless. I went into Trader Joes with a quick exit plan, but there was less food and longer lines than during my visit to Ruble Crisis Russia in 1999. 

I came out of Trader Joe's with frozen vegetables, soup, spaghetti noodles and sauce and frozen orange chicken. None of it on my original list, but it will get us through the weekend. I also came out of Trader Joe's to....RAIN. Not a single flake in the sky.

Monday, February 4, 2019

Sitting with my grandma at the hospital

I'm just sitting here,
holding grandma's
hand, watching her die. (Jan 22 text to Ed)

I walked into her room that night a little ill-prepared. She looked fine, good actually, for someone so close to death. But I did recognize the death, and hadn't experienced it in-person since my dad passed away. I immediately wanted to run far away from it.

But I sat down and held her hand. And thought of the million ways she's loved me over the years. And I looked at her sweet face, still full of color. And I felt her soft, warm, wrinkled skin, and hoped I could pass a little of that love back to her.