Susan Senator

Old friends
Sat on the park bench like book ends.
–Simon and Garfunkel

Last night the wind and the rain were so strong that we did not sleep well. I got up several times, from the noise and to check on Beastie, who was coughing in his sleep, a little boy cough (even his cough is cute!). This morning, the remaining leaves have been stripped from the trees and all is wet and gray. My front lawn is like a sheet of hammered copper, with layers of crisp, flat brown oak leaves. Two red cardinals sat on the bare dogwood outside my dining room window; I have not seen them since the winter.

And yet I woke up clear-minded and happy. It’s definitely November, but somehow I’m together today. Not sure how or why. Maybe because I am going to have lunch with a friend from a long time ago, a spiritual connection that I severed because it was too intense for me (that’s right, I said that she was too intense for me! Can you believe that? But it happens. Even I can’t always look under the scab or the rock. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, you know what I mean?) Anyway, she was a friend to me pre- and post-diagnosis, she was with me during my craziest times, she inspired the plot to my third novel, The Scent of Violets, she got me my first massage, and she bought me a deck of Tarot cards and a book on Tarot so that I could learn to read them. And I did use them for a long time, the last question being, “Should I have a third baby?” And the answer was, “Yes.”

I read the cards the other day and had a very confused reading.

But I am really looking forward to seeing her because I am ready for that connection, and I am ready for some spiritual work. I keep getting stuck on one particularly thorny issue and I’m not sure how to handle it. Other than going to the gym, or belly dancing, lying curled up in Ned’s arms. Actually, those things work pretty well.

The thought of seeing my Intense Old Friend this afternoon, however, is a comfort on this November day, like a cup of real hot chocolate (made with Droste cocoa, milk, and sugar, if I were allowed to drink such a wonderous thing on this diet of mine). It makes me feel strong and able to be centered. Seeing her gives me permission to indulge my flaky side and to wonder, and move beyond whatever may be miring me in the November mud.