spynotes ::
  October 25, 2006
Gazing at Delta

My niece lost her lip a few days ago. She had just come home from vacation and ran down the street to her friend�s house to tell her all about it. She walked up the stairs to where her friend�s dog was sitting. She reached out to pet the dog on the way by and the dog lunged at her face. After two hospital visits, two general anesthesias, one operation and a whole lot of rabies shots directly in the wound, she�s doing fine now.

Funny, after all the things we worry about them, having lived in some of the most volatile regions in the world, it is something so mundane. My brother says he can hardly talk about it without crying. There�s nothing that makes you feel as powerless as a parent as watching your child suffer pain.

- - - - -

The student who missed the exam got in touch. She overslept. I had to tell her she couldn�t retake the test. This is my least favorite part of the job. I�d really like to be a pushover, but I know I can�t. It doesn�t help anyone. On the plus side, though, she�s agreed to come in so I can help her with her work. Hopefully I can help. I hate the feeling when you lose one.

- - - - -

Last night I dreamed of my grandmother. In the dream I was talking to her like we used to do and I was happy because she seemed like her old self. Then all of a sudden she got confused. She didn�t know when or where or who she was. She stood up and I went to stand next to her but watched as she fell before I could help. I watched her fall over and over again.

This morning I woke with my head throbbing and my eyes burning in the first real cold of the season. Overnight, all of the leaves suddenly fell. It looks as if the mulberry tree dropped all of its leaves in one fell swoop, leaving a perfect pile on the lawn. The linden leaves are shivering down on the skylights sounding like rain. But the oaks�the oaks are amazing. Usually the oak leaves stay on the trees all winter, gradually darkening until they are a chocolate brown and then falling in clumps in the early spring. But this morning, the oak leaves are all shot with gold, a gleaming copper color that I�ve never seen before. They are miraculous.

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