The packing and the trip to SC went well. I was the grateful beneficiary of Terri’s pleasure in the act of organizing. The family’s OCD gene comes in handy for packing by proxy. Terri & Jim’s mini-van is spacious and comfortable, and the trip up was uneventful. I was reminded of the progress I’ve made. It was a breeze to get into the back seat this time—unlike the day I left the hospital, when even the thought of getting into the car was scary. The mornings here are cool—in the 40s—but it gets warm quickly. It’s funny to be in a suburban neighborhood again. A small woods separates the back yard from a golf course.

There is a motor-head bar near here named—get this—“Suck, Bang, Blow” that is the landmark to turn off the main highway towards the neighborhood. My brother-in-law calls it the “cultural center.”

Got the big news that Alexander will be visiting here the weekend before Thanksgiving (before he goes home to Florida for a week.) Can’t wait to see him. He was asked to do the lead editorial in the next print issue of TNR. Since it’s an editorial he doesn’t have a byline, but it’s a great honor.

T&J have thought of everything and have made me a nice retreat for me in their guestroom which is only a few hobbles away from the bathroom. I have a desk to work at and a comfy chair to sit in. Lots of light pours in the window, so I can work here without artificial light. There is a bird who likes to peck at my window, though. Not sure what that’s about.

Friday I had the first shower I’ve had in over a month! Yayyyyy! I still need quite a bit of assistance to get there and get out, but I sure did appreciate the running water, even though I can only sit under it (in a commode chair—the humiliations never cease). Other big victory: now, since my clothes are within my reach, I get to choose what I wear—including my own underwear. This is big stuff that makes me exceedingly grateful to be here. I have much more room (and opportunity) to walk and no stairs to deal with. I feel myself getting stronger already. The best luxury, I have to say, is having a place to be alone in sometimes. For a month my bedroom was in the living room—social central. My introverted self needs time alone to reboot.

On the other hand, in the circumstances I find myself in, it is helpful not to remain entrenched in the “what I need” and “who I am” attachments. Even though so much has changed for me, I am still here, still functioning, even happily most of the time, and I am also very aware that this experience is temporary. So all that identity attachment really doesn’t serve any purpose (except to make me suffer needlessly). I have to admit that I allow myself to indulge in the suffering from time to time.

I long for my old crutchless and braceless independence and the simple pleasure of being in my own home—or driving. More strange is that moment by moment I notice my discomfort at being cared for. I have to ask for help with almost anything that needs to be moved from one place to another. (How, Lezlie, did you ever deal with moving your computer around????)

This wonderful care, at some level, is what I longed for my whole life, the nurturing, the non-judgmental love and attention, and isn’t it interesting that it makes me so uncomfortable to receive it? Maybe, before this experience is over, I will learn to get really comfortable with receiving. Heaven knows there is lots of opportunity to practice.

One more thing before I sign off that I have to tell you. Now that I am out and about more, I have noticed something. The sky is bluer than it was before my accident. In fact, all colors everywhere are more vibrant. All my senses seem more aware. I can feel the air against my skin. This is similar to the way the world looked and felt right after Alexander was born—super saturated with color and aliveness. I am thinking the world might be like this all the time, but I just don’t notice.

South Carolina bound.