Back to Nature

Back to the Wellfleet Bay Wildlife Sanctuary. About to head over there again soon. Waiting for the surgeon to call my cell to say Dad did okay in the surgery today. They were installing a feeding tube in his stomach--a "peg," they call it. Sis and I both spoke to Dad separately in person and he said he wanted it. He is wasting away, not eating, and this is the only chance, so maybe he can get up and walk again with rehab.

The other night, since I am the health care proxy according to a form Dad signed years ago, I had to authorize the anesthesia via cell phone. I was worried. H., Figgy and I were just arriving at the sanctuary [we call it the Audubon]. I called Sis before we pulled in, because the Audubon is a cell-free zone.

Talk to the owls and see what they say, she said. She made me laugh. I love my Sis.

I had told her I was going to be looking for birds out among the grass and meadows and water. I did see a yellow legs sandpiper; a still, dark toad; fiddler crabs; a bright green frog; turtles; a fat, furry bumblebee; and a hummingbird whirring away at a purple butterfly bush.

I knew the answer, and so did Sis. Our Dad wanted the feeding tube.

Whatever they have to do, he had said with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

Oh, Dad, I hope you are okay. I will see you again Tuesday. Since I got here this trip, I've been thanking you and Mommy so much for giving me the gift of Cape Cod. Everything I love here, everything, is because of you two. Thank you for saving your money and building the house. Thank you for keeping it all these years, even after you couldn't make the trip up. Thank you for being so generous.

Thank you for the quiet nights, the clear moon, the birdsong, the Audubon, the sandwich shop, the bike path, the dog walks, the apple tree up the street, the library, the church. Thank you for the time and space to read, and write, and think. To set and review goals. To make an apple crisp, or try Cape Cod Creamery ice cream. To eat dinner by candlelight. To give our daughter the gift of nature. The stillness, the quiet, the watching, the waiting.

Thank you for the ponds, the ocean, the tall staircase at Nauset Light Beach, and the bright, sweeping beam of the lighthouse itself. Thank you for clam chowder, native corn, the time away from home for my daughter to style my hair in the blue and silver bathroom.

Thank you for books, and sunsets, and car rides, and music, and cocktails before dinner. Thank you for pots and pans and curtains and flowers.

Thank you, Dad. Just thank you.

Beautiful Goose Pond Trail. Leaving library to head over there now.