I tried to be clever with the title of this piece, wanting you to think it a metaphor for something vital, but in the end, it says just what it means — concrete.
The construction workers and the concrete people came today to pour the approach to my garage, as well as finish pouring the basement floor. (They’d done most of the floor a long time ago, but there was a nook that had once been a coal room that didn’t get done the first time, and to prevent a short load fee, they had to wait and do it in conjunction with another short load to equal a full load.)
Little by little, things are getting done. I must admit, I do like people coming to work here. It’s nice to have life, action, activity, even if it’s someone else’s activity rather than my own. (About the only thing I’ve been doing around the place lately is watering my transplants in an effort to keep them alive.) I like that other people are helping me look after my place — it really is a lot of responsibility for one lone woman, especially one who doesn’t know how to do anything; doesn’t, in fact, even know what to look for. (When they were down the basement fixing a leak a while back, they discovered that all the plumbing lines were brittle and would eventually need to be replaced. I think the fellow who pointed it out regrets doing so, because he will be the one who has to crawl in the dark and dank spaces to do the work.)
I’m looking forward to the garage and the back stoop being done — those are safety factors for me. But for the rest of it, yes, it would be nice to have the work finished, but it’s also nice knowing the contractor and his workers will still have reasons — even some concrete reasons — to stop by now and then.
Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.