;)
Margie went into surgery #2 yesterday about 10:00 AM and came out about two hours later, groggy, uncomfortable and feeling considerable pain, as anyone would who had been cut into and had an internal organ removed. The doctor proclaimed the surgery to be a success and said she should be able to come home today.
As I was sitting beside her, I heard the chime that signals a new text message coming into my iPhone. It was from Jacob, sent from Phoenix. This is it: Jobe looking almost stunned to see how drastically the environment and weather around him has suddenly changed.
I will admit, as much as I love wintertime Alaska, when I looked at it, I wanted to be there, too, with Margie, smiling and laughing at her children and grandchildren, enjoying the warmth of a sun that is bright this time of year, whereas ours is dim.
About 45 minutes later, I got a second text from Jacob. They had gone to lunch and Jobe had thrown a fit - the biggest fit anyone had ever seen any of my grandchildren throw anywhere. They had left lunch a little early. Jobe was now in better spirits. They were planning to take the boys to the zoo.
Late in the night, I wanted to call Margie but was afraid I would wake her. She called me just before midnight. Her voice sounded strong and good. She said she was already feeling much better. She was eager to come home - and I am eager to bring her home.
;)
As for the other three who made it to Arizona without us - Lisa, Melanie and Charlie - they had taken off to Tucson, just to check the place out. Today, they will drive up to the res, home of the White Mountain Apache Tribe, where Melanie was born.
Today is also Lisa's birthday.
My very special Lisa, who was born in Anchorage but waited until I arrived to make her appearance.
It was 1985 and I had gone to Barrow to begin work on what would be my very first Uiñiq magazine. I felt a little lost, wondering if I had gone crazy to even propose such a thing. What if I couldn't do it? What if the challenge was beyond my meager skills?
I didn't plan to stay long, because Margie was going to have a baby in a week or so and I wanted to be there.
Melanie had come very fast - less than two hours from when Margie first went into labor. We figured this baby might come even faster.
So when she called me close to midnight on November 21 to tell me her labor had begun and a neighbor was going to drive her to ANMC in Anchorage, I thought I had missed my chance to be there for the birth of what would be our fifth and last child - who, just like the last three of the previous four, had evaded whatever birth control method we were trying at the time and had happily snuck in.
In those days, Mark Air had not yet gone out of business and they had a red-eye flight that left Barrow at about 2:30 and flew non-stop to Anchorage, a bit over two hours.
So I jumped on that red-eye - and I was the only passenger. Just me and two stewardesses, on a 737.
I got there in time, because Lisa waited for her dad.
Happy birthday, Lisa. If you were in Alaska and not Arizona, this is what you would be seeing.
I, by the way, had just left the hospital briefly, to get a late lunch.
;)
Now I am coming back from that late lunch and the sun is slowly slipping below the southwestern horizon. Do you see the raven? At this size, it is very hard to pick out, plus, I was shooting through the windshield so the definition is not as pronounced as it could be.
Still, if you were to look at this photo full-size on my Apple Cinema Screen monitor, the raven would be clearly visible - just above the near wall of the middle turret.
;)
I drove past the hospital and then parked near the emergency entrance, as that entrance is also very close to the elevator that would drop me off almost right at Margie's room on the fourth floor. After I parked and started walking toward the building, I notice raven upon raven upon raven, one after the other, passing over, alongside and nearby the hospital.
All the ravens were flying east. Their work day was coming to an end and they wanted to get to their homes in the trees on the hills and lower slopes of the mountains before dark set in.
Of course I thought of Sandy, who loved ravens : Soundarya, muse and soul friend. I think of her every day and many times throughout the day. She appears in many dreams, sometimes as herself, sometimes in disgues. Of course I think of Anil, too. It had now been one year ago that Anil had died with a good friend in a tragic car crash.* The next day - one year ago today - still stunned by the news about Anil, I answered my phone to hear the message that I never wanted to hear - that Sandy had chosen to follow her husband into death.
Sandy, who loved ravens - and all creatures, be they furry, spiny, feathery, slimy, creepy... she loved them all.
As I walked toward the building, I took pictures of each raven that passed nearby - then along came three at once. The wing of the highest one caught the light of the setting sun and reflected it into my lens.
;)
Then one raven did what none of the others had. It stopped its forward progress and turned back toward the hospital.
;)
It alighted there. This, I decided, was Soundarya's raven.
;)
I stopped and waited a bit, to see if I could get a picture of it when it flew away. It took its time, and kept looking back in the direction from whence it came. I wandered if it had a partner, a friend, a mate, that it was waiting for. Or maybe it was part of a gang - a gang of ravens.
We often see such gangs around here.
I stood there waiting to see, but no other raven came to join it. According to my car, when I pulled into the parking lot the temperature was -3 F (-19.4 C). I knew that if I waited much longer, my lens would fog and ice up once I stepped into the warmth of the hospital. Plus, in addition to the pain and misery these shingles continue to inflict upon me, they have taken away my resistance to cold. I have just been cold, cold, cold.
So I went inside to see Margie. I do not know if the raven left alone, or if another came along and the two flew off together. I think the latter is probably what happened, but I do not know.
*I did not learn about the friend until later, so I did not write about him at the time.