On July 13th, after being discharged from the hospital, Mary Jo loaded me in the car, and took me to Carol Cometto’s Morning After House, where we had stayed prior to going to the hospital. I spent much of the day sitting around and trying to avoid pain. I reclined on the upstairs couch and watched the Sotomayor hearings, but did precious little else. In the evening, a rainstorm moved over Trinidad, especially over Fisher peak, and we all watched from the porch. After the storm passed, Fisher peak was bathed in sunlight amidst a deep and thoughtful sky. The air smelled new and clean.

On Tuesday, July 14th (Surgery +5), I woke to a sunnycrisp view of the mountains, felt the cool air pouring through windows, and listened to Trinidad going to work on the streets below. This being Bastille Day, I decided I’d get out and walk a bit. Mary Jo, who had been staying very active while I was in the hospital by riding Carol’s bike and hiking, declared she was hiking up to the Trinidad sign, which is up to the west of the Morning After House, and not really very far. I sat in my easy chair, looking at the peak through my window, waiting to see her figure far above. When she finally appeared, I gingerly walked downstairs and stood on the porch waving to her while Danny took photos of her tiny figure below those enormous letters.

After lunch, we were thumbing through satellite channels on the TV and managed to catch Harold and Maude on AMC from the beginning. Although we had both seen it, we realized that it had been years since we watched it together. With its balance of comedy and raw emotion, fueled by Cat Stevens’ emotional songs, I alternately cried freely or laughed out loud. It seemed the perfect movie for this day, especially for me and Mary Jo, determined to live our lives according to our own desires instead of following other peoples’ norms.

Mary Rae, who was one day behind me, arrived at the Morning After House, and we sat out on the porch watching the sky and the ever-present Fisher Peak in front of us. I was getting really tired of the catheter and the packing, which made it increasingly difficult to find a comfortable position. That’s just the nature of this phase of things, but it leads to grumpiness and impatience.