It's sort of like the old Irish "but still..." as a literary device. If you've ever heard an Irish person tell a story, you'll immediately know what I'm talking about. The story in question can be the most heartbreaking tale of woe and loss, and just when you think it couldn't get any worse, you hear the storyteller utter the words "but still" and all of a sudden a bright spot appears. In condensed version this might sound a bit like (read in an Irish brogue)"Me mother died, and me potato crop failed, but still, those that's living are together now and I'd be lyin' if I said that this sunrise doesn't lift the soul and raise me spirits"
Yesterday Emily got into her wheelchair, and she and I stopped by the coffee shop downstairs in the hospital, and spent some time outside in the garden. It was nice to mark all of the progress that she's made with a moment of quiet relaxation, but we couldn't help talking about the kind of changes we'll need to make around the house, and in our lives, when she comes home. These changes are temporary to be sure, but they're no less real, and no less daunting.
That's the primary reason I'm writing this today. It looks like we're going to need to build a ramp onto the back deck of our house. I know how to do this, but there's no way I can haul the lumber and do all the work myself, so I'll need to get a crew together. I'm putting this up here first because I've had a lot of offers to help with this project, but we only have two more weekends before she comes home, so it's probably time to organize. I've taken some measurements, and come up with some ideas based on building code, but I guess I could really use someone to lead the effort and figure out how much it's all going to cost, etc. If you are interested in helping, or organizing the effort, you can e-mail or call me in the next few days and we'll see what we can get together.
Thanks
