Xátiva

Depresso is the feeling that you get when you when you’ve had too much espresso and can’t fall asleep-o.  I am not normally a coffee drinker, but I have found that it gives me the illusion of being awake and that just a cup makes me pretty and more likable. Spaniards use it to start their day, manage their day, and end their day.  It is also a tool to connect with friends.  While it gets me going in the morning, said habit is not serving me well at night.

Last weekend was a three-day weekend, or puente, which is the same Spanish word for “bridge”.  Normally a bridge spans water (an element essential for making coffee).  But bridges can also be thought of as connectors, or tools that help you get from one place to another.  An appropriate thought for this week as we finish up our Spanish classes and transition to the academic school year.  Also applicable when trying to bridge an excruciating gap of 10 hours between cups of coffee otherwise known as “night”.

We took advantage of the puente, and went to Xátiva (Ha-tee-va), a town that boasts of being the birthplace of two popes and the first paper manufacturing company in Spain.  Sounds like a snoozer, I know, but there is an awesome castle there that bridges two hilltops.  The walk up to the castle was tiring, but the view from the top got our adrenaline going.  There was also a street fair celebrating something, who knows what, but knowing Valencianos, probably just being awake.

  

This week we will transition from Spanish school to on-line school, from having international students as friends to having only Valencian neighbors, and from regular to decaf.  I don’t need much to motivate me right now, as I still feel alert to my surroundings and happy to be here.  But I do wish I could sleep.  I am confident that I would be prettier and more likeable if I did.  But morning will come soon enough, and I hope there is enough Nespresso left for one more cup.  If not, well, I will cross that bridge when I come to it.

Hanging On

Amusement parks make me feel alive.  I love rides that spin you ‘round, slam you left and right, and turn your whole world upside down giving you different a perspective of familiar things.  I love to scream, but I am very aware and thankful for the bar that holds me in and keeps me safe as I take a deep breath and let go.

It is sweet to see my dad walk into the hospital room each morning and hug my mom, although it isn’t clear who is holding up whom.  His hands are full, his head is spinning and while he has only his heart to give, he is constantly increasing the dose.  He is holding on tight, and I think I saw him trying to sneak a puff of mom’s oxygen.  I’m sure he could use it. 

My support bar, Keith, is miles away, but with Whatsapp and Skype, I feel well belted in.  I miss him, and need him more than these french fries, (although I do wear the catsup quite well).  If we only live once, and I have heard that is the case, I’m hanging on to him.  He is the net under the ledge, and when I go flying off the edge, he goes flying off as well.

Yes, you read that right:  I bought us french fries.  But don’t judge me, transfats are the least of our worries right now.  Our perspective has changed.  Also, when you are wearing a DNR bracelet, you can eat whatever you damn well please.

This has been a week of ups and downs and just hanging on.  Thrilling is not the word I would use, but I sure do want to scream.  As the minutes slowly tick on in this hospital room, life seems to be speeding by.  So we hold on to what matters, and leave trivialities like putting Shout on this catsup stain until tomorrow.

Sometimes it’s okay if the only thing you do today is hang on and breathe.