Merced, California is a familiar enough area to me. I know what to expect with the weather, the annual 4th of July parade, my nieces and nephew and sister-in-law. Oh, and I just now remembered that donut place we visited last year with Gary. Usually, my brother, John, is a straightforward read, but with his new position and the boatloads of responsibility and clean-up work it entails, catching a whiff of his cologne as he sails out the door may be easier than actually catching sight of him. What are the laws on kidnapping one's own sibling out of love and a desire to spend a couple of days with him? Hmmm? Oh, FINE then. I'll take whatever I can get of his precious time. If I could locate a wonder twin and form of, say, A CANAL . . . maybe then Mister Merced-Irrigation-District Manager would single me out for some focused attention?! (Do I sound as desperate as I think I do? It IS 1AM, in my defense.)
Brother Gary is checked in to the Napa State Hospital Bed and Breakfast for an extended stay. Home of the square eggs and 3x's a day med calls followed by light snacks. A charming place where your hosts try to discourage head-banging and screaming at the other guests. Where shy self-conscious pyromaniacs room next to HIV-carrying racist black men (an interesting spin on a theme) who attack 35 year-old white ex-convicts covered in tattoos, sporting a bald head, and diagnosed with unspecified personality disorder. An environment where broken men and damaged women create their own framework for relationships within a rarefied society not often contemplated by outsiders.
Prisons, jails, court rooms, and, yes, even a state hospital, to visit loved ones. My brother. My sister. No matter how much I prepared myself, I was often fearful that my time with them would be snatched away. That some new rule would have been set in place in the time it took me to fly in and drive to the facility. But I'm a big girl now. I've seen too much. Prayed too hard. Accepted a great deal. No more fear of such things. Having said that, this hospital is a whole new ball game. California runs a far different kind of ship than does Colorado. Right now, I'm weighing the pros and cons of staying in starkly basic dorms on the hospital grounds with perfect strangers, and alone, or checking in to a reasonable hotel where I can curl up with my laptop at the end of the day and possibly pound out that query letter and book outline on my down time.
And, it IS the Napa Valley, after all. Home of vineyards and rolling countryside. I love a good drive and an even better sparkling wine or red zinfandel. Me. On my own. Rambling from town to town, relative to relative. Perhaps reacquainting myself with myself. As opposed to excitement, what I sense within is more of an anticipation of peace and settling. Sigh.
I am very excited, however, to bring Gary food. He can have home-cooked meals, perhaps even Starbucks coffee, and I want to lovingly force a bit of varied sushi on him. I'll bring along any well wishes from his friends scattered across the continent and across the Internet.But first. I must have sleep.
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