Pook Through the Looking Glass

I didn't think much when Lisa left for New Hampshire. From what I heard Pook wasn't talking, or eating but it sounded like depression and exhaustion. But Lisa called early the next morning. They'd rushed Pook to the hospital with dehydration and what they said was the flu. Her condition was such that she wasn't talking, her eyes would flutter when asked a question and she could comprehend and answer questions after what Lisa said was several minutes.

So the day Lisa left I was doing my daily meditation which are MP3s on an app.  In this phase of my medidation the guide aks has us aks ourselves a question in the third person. As it happened this was a new sequence with a new question. You're meant to aks these in the third person. It helps you consider the question as though you're hearing it fresh and allow you to come up with emotions in a less intellectual way. So the question for this period was "If you knew that today was very last day, how would you feel?

How would I feel? I'd be said, pissed off, but maybe I'd also be calm. I'd be very worried about everyone I was leaving behind. I'd probably worry about my stupid job. Mostly I'd be pissed off.

But this set me off thinking about Pook. Here she was maybe on the brink. She's still relatively young with three adult kids, 3 grandkids, a daughter in-law, son-in law, sister and friends. What was she thinking? Could she think? Did she know what was going on? If she did know what was going on was this what had her so isolated? Was she so deeply lost in thought about her death that she couldn't bring herself to talk. Was she being tortured by thoughts of who she was and who she was leaving behind.Was she hiding from the world? Had she retreated into a dream world of happier days where she read would devour novels in  a day and make fantastic meals that would take days to prepare. 

"Okay. Concentrate again on your surroundings." I practically jumped off my couch when Andy, the guide came back. I usually get deep in these meditations but never this deep. Andy usually gives a little speech and homework at the end of these sessions. "So this question is going to make you feel many things; they're all okay." I quietly said "no shit" to msyelf. This was the first time that a meditation had acutally given me a feeling of dread. 

He went on" but what I want you to think about is change. The inevitability of change. As much as we want. Nothing stays the same. Look for  change in your daily life." with that I burst out laughing. I was thinking to myself  "what an understatement." Lisa was going to be gone, for who knows how long. Her mom could no longer take care of her own physical needs, at least for now. Both her brothers were indisposed I was about to be alone for maybe a month. Our dog was about to lose his running partner for awhile.

But mostly I though about Pook. She'd already gone through this hell once and beaten it. Beaten it soundly enough that the doctors declared her cancer free. But it that firs tumor deeply changed her in ways ovious and subtle. She was different, her thinking wasn't as clear, she was even more eccentric than before. Her hygiene wasn't as good, she didn't cook as well, she'd get lost in crowds. 

That's enough of a life change for most people. But now she was even more sick. The tumor had affected her brain even more deeply already; she was being irritable and mood before it was diagnosed. But now something even deeper was happening. Something so deep and internal that no one but her could even say what going on. Maybe even she couldn't say. 

For some reason I started thinking of Alice going on her journeys to Wonderland. A strange world that she was trapped in and could only escape after a long adventure. I hoped that whatever was brewing in Pook's mind was some great adventure of books and delicious food and not a prison of regrets and fears. 

We wait patiently for you to come back to tell us about your great adventures.