The One You’re With

“You know someone who can do gutters?” Lupe asked, having plopped herself into a broken chair sitting at the end of our driveway. Born in Mexico, her accent remains and sometimes we speak Spanish together. I love it. She told me of what a culture shock it was to move to Hanson. Well into her 80s, with a husband now passed, Lupe is one of the original Gorwin Drive members who adores her home and gardens. Much like many of the other original settlers here, she is holding tight to this little slice of earth. After all was said and done, this is now home to her. She greets just about everyone who passes by as she sits on her front steps.

“Does he do gutters?” Lupe questioned, motioning to my neighbors across the street. “I don’t think so but I can ask.” I told her. “Well, is he home now? I can ask him.” she said, noticing his truck in the driveway. “I’ll call Helena and see if he is.” I told her. They don’t make them like Lupe anymore. This is the generation that got things done, talked to their neighbors, and went for walks just because and not for exercise. Lupe can be found on warm days crawling around her garden beds, weeding and tending. She is, without doubt, the coolest cat in this neighborhood. Her dog Charlie is the only one in Hanson to whom the leash law does not apply. Charlie can be seen galloping happily down the street, particularly in the warmer months with her hair freshly shorn. They man that corner of Jay Street and Joanne Drive. All of us know and love them dearly.

“Helena. Lupe wants to know if Brett does gutters. Now. And she’s in my driveway.” Helena laughed and walked outside, chatted with Lupe for a while and eventually drove her and Charlie home as it really was too far a walk for her. I smiled as I watched the whole exchange outside while I helped Dad through dinner and dessert, texting Thomas that I think I emit a Bat Signal for elderly folks.

The more I move through this life of mine here with all the shenanigans that come with it, I have come to a final conclusion about how to approach just about everything that being human throws at you. As I see it, there are always two paths to choose between—the path of resistance or the path of acceptance. Whatever current situation you’re in will most likely pass but not all that quickly. If you resist reality, it will still happen and have the added layer of you not liking it. If you accept reality, fall in love with it even, it becomes bearable, enjoyable, noteworthy, and humbling.

Today I gave my Dad a sponge bath after he woke as he was in desperate need of freshening up. As he sat there, slumped over, accepting my scrubbing and wiping, I knelt below him, looked in his eyes and got him to laugh. The absurdity of it all is not lost on him. There have been hard days when I have done things here I never thought I would or could. At first, I fought against that reality. Then, one day, it struck me that I could instead approach that reality with as much love as possible. I still struggle and, at some point, I know it will become too much and we’ll need more help. For now, however, this is happening and I will love the hell out of it because that’s what I choose to do. The days are longer now, afternoon sun is actually warm. I saw my first fireflies the other night and those birds that trill like frogs in the night are back. So much peace on top of a solid foundation of chaos—I’ll take it. “Love the one you’re with” they say.