Sylvia's Journal

Axel and I drove two hours to Orange to see Tim and Rhonda. We probably have Tim to thank for Axel’s life and may be mine too. I remember Tim holding my hand and talking to me as if we knew us well. He was chattering along, forcing me to respond from time to time when I really had wanted to close my eyes and get out of this really bad spot I was in. Tim and his friend Chris tried to stop the bleeding of Axel’s head. Chris took his shirt and covered Axel’s head.

Tim’s description of Axel bleeding profusely with a faint voice and glazed over eyes gave me a jolt. I never saw Axel like that and I sometimes forget how close he was to death’s door. But look at him now. We continue to be immensely grateful, even with all the pains and stiffness. This was the happy ending story of the day.

As we drove to Orange I kept looking at the blue skies overhead, thinking “we could have flown.” I could have. But I am not sure we could have flown together. Axel is still undecided about when to get back in the cockpit although he is a trooper and has indicated that he will one day. I am much clearer about when I am ready to fly together again. I told him that I need to build up my experience for awhile and the last thing I want is a nervous Nelly sitting next to me, pumping the foot pedals as if they were brakes (they are on the ground but not in the air). I am asking all the pilots around me to come flying with me so that it becomes second nature and I can handle nervous Nellies, Axel or another, and deal with things that require my immediate attention. Martin Imm, our handyman of this summer and fellow Quaker has already agreed to be my flying partner. And Arne has been of course for the 12 hours I have put in since the accident.

In the evening we went to the Lash/Stevens to watch the Superbowl. I had waffled about going since I couldn’t care less about the game (saying this is as close to blasphemy as you can get in New England). Axel assured me that there would be other women, like me, not interested in the game but interested in the company and the food. So, in the end I decided to go. I had after all made my favorite potluck desert, Undescended Twinkies. The recipe comes from Square Meals by Jane and Michael Stern. The cookbook, which is a hoot to read, describes recipes from the back of food packages in the American fifties. They are new to me and fun to make; they are also without any emotional load, except maybe that the ingredients and dishes are as far away from eating local and green (and healthy) as you could go. To Axel and his Baby boom cohort they are familiar and comforting foods. This is funny and sad because, in large quantities, such foods have been known to kill Baby boomers.

We sat in the back of the room with the giant screen and talked about movies and other womanly things. When, during the third quarter of the game the mood began to descend Peggy and I decided to move to a side room where we watched a re-enactment of Jane Austen’s life. And that was the sad ending of the day. What happened to Jane Austen was just as sad as what happened to the Patriots. But at least Jane Austen left us some good stuff to read.