I have recently recovered (they tell me) from a serious, potentially life threatening major bacterial infection which affected my brain, leaving me in a state of confusion and my family and friends frightened and bewildered.  I have mostly recovered, and hopefully this poem signals the start of a new chapter.  

And yes, because I do tend to take on new challenges, and it was clearly past time to move out of my three story house into an apartment, I am in the throes of moving over four decades of stuff; clothing, furniture, books and pictures and mostly memories.  At times the task has been daunting, leaving me exhausted and fuzzy; did I really pack the only glass I had left in the kitchen?  do I want to shlepp a large cedar chest that held pictures of trips and family and friends over time?  the chest stays here, given to the family who purchased my house, the albums are neatly stored in cardboard boxes, to be studied, shared with family, hopefully they will be my children's memories in kodak- color now.  

Moving, relocating, even if nearby has changed from a relatively smooth transfer of furniture, clothes, books and pictures.  Decisions are relatively easy; will I still need all those winter clothes when I head south every winter; I haven't used that (bowl, silver services, etc) in twenty years, so pack or donate?  

An added element is present in today's tech, google, facebook, I- everything world.  Its not enough to move the television, you have to return the electronic DVD box to the content provider, order a new one from a different company that is wired in the building and have a computer buddy restore cable cords and boxes with new equipment.  Mail to be forwarded, address change to regular providers of services( alarm system; plumber, heat/air conditioning company, etc.  Newspapers need to be rerouted, trash pickup days re-learned. the list is endless.  but each day that I empty a closet, fold clothing or linens or toiletries into boxes I edge closer to walking away from the physical reminders of 37 years of my life.  Making the move as a widow is particularly hard.  Who do you turn to and say: "remember when we bought that print?  Eight years gone and your bathrobe is still on a hook in the closet, time to wash and donate it."  checking the back of shelves in the kitchen, I come across six or seven "chicken wishbones" dried, wrapped in paper towels, saved for luck? habit? 

And finally, the lists, endless lists: changes to make, calls to stop or reschedule services, notes on when a particular company will come to turn off one service or another, while neighbors stop by to offer a lunch break in a local restaurant, Off I go, remembering to stop at the new apartment house management office to pick up my keys.  I am almost 74 and this is the first home I have ever had with only one occupant, me.  how odd.  

LAND OF LOST TIME

I’m not quite ready for poems that rhyme,

For cute little ditties and such.

My (hopefully) short slide into the land of lost time

Has shaken me right to the core.

I’ve managed my share of medical crises,

Broken ankles, a rotator cuff tear.

I’ve had surgery on more toes than I can count.

Now, that certainly was unfair.

I’ve gained a partial third set of teeth, through crowns, implants, and caps

At least now my smile is reasonably normal, with no obvious gaps.

I pulled through managing Crohns’ disease

In spite of a rare burst colon.

I’ve followed the orders of doctors and dentists

Treated quickly anything swollen.

As much as I love food that’s salty or sweet

I try to contain my weight

It helps to practice the art of Tai Chi

With a focus on feeling fit and great.

So how did I happen to meet with such a daunting challenge?

Silent, no symptoms, no signs.

That managed to totally consume my mind

Bacteria on my brain had designs!

“Let’s not let her realize how dangerous we are,

We’ll sneak into her bloodstream, swim near the left ear,

A bit of deafness to start”.

“We’ll hide in the coils and twists of her brain,

Mess up memory so she seems to be addled.

We’ll short-circuit her recall, her store of knowledge

With confusion she will be saddled.”

And best of all, we’ll be hard to find, and harder to understand

Until a team of great Docs, MRI’s and blood tests

Ferreted out the vandals.

With high powered medicines, lots of rest, to be sure

This was something I could handle.

My memory is slowly reasserting itself, so I’ll know who you are if you call.

I still stop at times when I forget to remember why I’m standing in the front hall.

Of course, the Times awaits outside, and I need that daily crossword

And yes, I walk slowly; walk carefully on side walk and lawn,

The last thing I need is to lose balance and fall.

So to all of my friends, The Florida crew, the Columbians I’ve known for years,

My family, my children, my neighbors.

Without your support I could never get through

To what I hope is a fruitful life, with poems and classes and movies too.

And I sit now, indoors, with my house in a shambles,

Moving boxes, filled with stuff, empty walls surround me.

And outside the woods, the stream and the brambles.

But they’ll be close by my new abode

With no stairs! One level!  A treat to behold.

I’m moving, downsizing, to an apartment that’s right sized,

For myself and my lifestyle today

But I carry my memories; they all fit in my heart,

And I’m only a few minutes away!

May 23, 2015

Susan Kleinberg (I think)