Shundo David Haye – Zen Priest

On Saturday morning I awoke to see a message from my sister that my mother had a chest infection; she had had one earlier in the year, but had rallied. This time, she said, the nurses were less optimistic. With a roam scheduled that afternoon, I had chosen not to go riding, but just to head to the Ferry Building Farmers’ Market around nine. While I was there another pessimistic message; I decided to reply once I got home, but by then, she had slipped peacefully away.

I wasn’t sure how I would feel – as with my father, a long decline was followed by a swift demise – and at the very least knew I would still lead the roam, which was a good tonic, not least because I didn’t tell anyone who was there. A number of folks were reminiscing about the wedding, and asking about the honeymoon and Ruth’s mother. She has also been poorly with a number of complications, and Ruth had spent much of the week, including several nights, at the hospital.

Mostly I have found myself incredibly lethargic, a heaviness that is coming from deep within. We tried to have a normal Sunday – the first for more than a month – and were a little thwarted by car problems that have only manifested since the oil was changed the weekend before. We sent out a mass email to everyone on the wedding thread, which was met with many kind and sympathetic responses. I taught a couple of sessions on Monday, was offered Tuesday off, and was glad to take it; I got to spend the afternoon with Ruth just to enjoy each other’s company again. In the evenings I have felt exhausted, even though I am sleeping normally. 

A couple of people asked if I would be traveling back to England. I had already decided it would be unfeasible (not least with the number of weddings I am committed to), and my siblings decided the best thing to do would be to have a memorial next summer with her ashes, somewhere around where we grew up.

Beyond the rain that passed through in our honeymoon week, more storms have circled in; San Francisco seems to have missed the worst of them, but maybe we will still catch a tail of this one. The evenings are definitely feeling shorter, especially as I sit eating the still-delicious remains of our wedding cake alone while I wait for Ruth to return from the hospital.