For the first time since last October, and about the third time in a decade, the three of us, plus Smellie, went for a mini vacation. Last weekend, we took a scenic drive into the orangey, autumn hills of Rangeley, Maine on our way to Bald Mountain. We settled into a rustic lakeside cabin where we enjoyed all kinds of weather, from a clear, still Friday in the high-forties, to a stormy, seventy-degree Saturday, to a windy, bone-chilling Sunday morning.
Regrettably, on our first night, Calvin suffered at least three focal seizures—the insidious kind which have been diminishing these past several months. The next day he had fourth one. As a result, Calvin spent the entire weekend convalescing in bed. Michael and I took turns sitting or lying beside him in a bedroom that, by way of a front room window, had a narrow view of the lake and some graceful birches. Sadly, Calvin wasn't able to step foot outside the cabin on his own. The only time he went outside was the brief moment when Michael carried him onto the porch and held him in his lap to watch a dramatic lightening display across the lake.
Luckily, Calvin wasn't hyper or feverish or manic or restless; he was content to nap on and off all weekend, recovering from his seizures or whatever else was ailing him. At dinnertime, he slept soundly enough (baby monitor within inches of our ears) for us to enjoy our meals which we shared very responsibly—physically distant at cocktail hour, masked-up when necessary, virtually al fresco at dinner—with our dear friends who rented the cabin next door.
It felt good to spend time enjoying a rare change of scenery—a quiet space near the water with a big sky and a clear view of the sunset. Smellie frolicked on the beach. We ate delicious food, drank sublime wine and a tiny bit of bourbon. Best of all, we laughed a lot with our friends with whom we share a similar sense of humor and cynicism, and who know our situation better than anyone because our sons, both our only children, have a lot in common.
After two days without our ridiculous creature comforts, it felt good to get back home and to settle into the familiar, to stroll in the garden, walk Smellie in the open fields, and eat dinner to music in front of a rolling fire in the wood stove. If all goes well, maybe we'll try getting on the road again next year.