More Vulnerables for Beverly

In spite of cold and rain, these sweet little woodland anemones can be counted upon to bloom.

By Sigrid Nunez

It had always seemed wrong to her, to expect a person to stay true to one other person — to one other body — till death did them part. To her it was an example of society’s cruelty: to condemn the kind of excitement and adventure and human connection that could make a person feel happiest and most alive. 

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Beverly said I’ll have to look for her books at the library on my next trip.

I read her memoir about Susan Sontag and that led me to The Vulnerables, which I devoured. It’s a novel written in first-person; it’s the narrator’s musings and memories rather than a plot-driven story, and it  engrossed me till the last page. 

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We went to Saskatoon yesterday to take Dad to a medical appointment at one of the three hospitals in the city. His appointment wasn’t till 3:30 so we were able to meet up with a longtime friend of his at 1 o’clock for a visit. It was a long day. On the highway between Humboldt and ToonTown, I sat in the back so the two men up front could jibber-jabber and I could read.

The hospital is on 20th Street, which has the reputation for being a “rough” part of town. We saw a couple homeless people on sidewalks and benches. I caught a few artful sights through the car windows in passing.

On 20th Street

We drove through some rain before reaching Humboldt again, and the sky all around was full and on the move.

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Dad saw a kidney specialist and got better news than he expected; no worries for now, and things may even improve.

He said he doesn’t know how he’d’ve managed if he’d gone by himself. I believe it. I said I’m not sure how we’d’ve managed if just he and I had gone; it would’ve been tough, not even counting the fact that driving in city traffic is a serious stressor for me in recent years. There’s no place to park at the hospital, the residential streets around it are saturated with vehicles for blocks, and Dad had to sit down and catch his breath twice just walking the long hallways to get out of the building after his consultation. I got a wheelchair for the last stretch.

In other good news, my dear friend Cathy came and met us for an iced coffee on the grounds of the building. It was a short and sweet chitchat; we sat side by side on a concrete window-ledge while Farmbeau pulled weeds from the sparse grass; but so good to see her and she is looking FABulous … this weekend she’s the mother of a bride so has lots on her plate for the next few days.

Well it’s Friday and there is no place I have to go. Might — probably will — go to Wadena because some of the library books I’ve ordered came in yesterday. The sun is shining and everything is aglow following rains of recent days. Life is beautiful, people! Especially when I can still be in my housecoat at 11:17 a.m. without a care in the world.