Dawn's support team swung into high gear this afternoon, rearranging furniture to give her the best possible view, with the couch for more visitors, the reclining chair, from Golf Lakes Estates (belonging to my mom's parents in Bradenton, Florida (came here by truck)) now optional.Movement is painful, her legs frail. Mostly, she'll be needing the bed.
My own sense is of grieving and gratitude, as I've seen brave individuals doing their professional and familial best to help Dawn extend her life in a good way. I've been her coach and sometimes hard taskmaster, wanting to really work in my role. But now I understand she's ready for me to back off and let nature take its course, while continuing along faithfully by her side, eternally her friend and partner.
Alexia has moved up her visit, originally scheduled for May, in response to swiftly changing events. Friends are pulling together, assisting us in every way.
I appreciated the call from Wanderer Glenn Stockton, about the event at Powell's Books today, even though I couldn't make it. And thank you to Kim for her expert assistance and meat loaf.
Élise brought strong horse medicine, her forte. She'd hauled her two large animals for hundreds of miles on the freeway, with her young daughter, to an intensive retreat on equestrian massage near Silverton, with Ruth at a horse camp in Redland.
When Dawn and I first met, she was hooked up with Élise in this horsey reality, doing bookkeeping for CUE, plus they were both doing Wy'East, a training very much in the Lakota medicine wheel tradition with sweat lodges and everything.
This was many moons ago. I joined Wy'East as well but dropped out around when it came time to make your own drum, with a dried skin from a taxidermist -- like I'd already gotten the girl by this point.
