Margie: a dot in a sea of dots

Dots are symbols of the world, the cosmos. The Earth is a dot, the moon, sun, the stars are all made up of dots. You and me, we are dots— Yayoi Kusama.

Finally I am well enough to see Margie in person again, and we had a joyous visit. She has been having challenges to her mobility in the form of sciatica and various small bone fractures in her legs that are healing (or not), each at its own pace. She is still walking independently with her slow walker, the one with two wheels, not the faster rollator with four, but moving is painful for her, and she’s no longer going outside for walks. Her big excursions are down the hallway and back, accompanied by Lucy or her carer.

“I’m in the hands of the gods, and the gods are not merciful. But I see you have come with a big book. What’s that about?” 

I took the library book about Yayoi Kusama, who was born in 1929 and is still painting. I told Margie all about Kusama’s life and work, and Margie, who was born in 1927, marveled at the story and the pictures. 

Margie read one of Kusama’s poems aloud. After reading the poem, she said, “Who wrote that?” I told her the whole story again, adding more details, and she revelled in every bit of it. “Tell me what the dots mean.” I told her, and she said, “Oh, it’s about interconnection. I do believe we are energy, we are all dots. That makes perfect sense. Is she still alive?” Yes, I said, and still painting.

“How wonderful. She takes you on a trip! Thank you for bringing her with you. What’s her name again? Is she still alive?” I told the whole story again, elaborating, waving my arms, having a wonderful time.

We hugged, and Margie insisted on walking me to the door, though I could see each step was painful for her. We hugged and kissed, and Margie thanked me, resting her weight painfully on her feet so she could pat my hands with both of hers. “You bring so much life with you! I never know where we are going to go when you come. You always take me on long trips. I can't remember where we went, but I feel I've been on a journey to somewhere wonderful.”

P.S. just so you know for sure, this is NOT a double exposure. That just happened to be the blanket in which Margie had wrapped herself today.