How Many Words for Snow?

Did you know that the idea that Inuit people have a large number of different words for snow is an urban legend? (If you don't believe me, check it out. You'll find a number of different articles explaining why, though I only read one myself.) Apparently they have about the same number of words we do. (the legend sprung from the different way their language works.)

I have always loved that urban myth. And now it is shattered. But truth at all costs, right? It just seemed so beautiful to me, like maybe the Inuit could name every single snowflake as it fell from the sky. I pictured a snowy, glistening landscape with my Inuit guide teaching me to see all the subtle nuances around me. Sounds nice, even if it's not true.

Which brings me to this blog. I'm not really sure how many words there are for grief, or even if I could ever, like my imaginary Inuit guide, teach you all the subtle nuances of the landscape here in grief-land.

What I am sure of is that in real life (very different from fantasy, no?) there are two things that could become very tiresome after awhile. One would be learning 100 different types of snow, with the appropriate words, and the other would be learning 100 different ways someone grieves, with all the appropriate descriptions of the pain.

Which sometimes leaves me puzzling as I write my blog. What do I write about when there isn't much going on to write about? Endless descriptions of my various moods and emotions of pain, anger, disappointment, etc, well, that sounds pretty tiresome, even to me. So what can I decide is appropriate material for this blog in the brief calm & sunny periods we have?

I think I will just award myself artistic license here, and I hope it won't be too disconcerting if sometimes I do write something slightly off the topic of Joel. It will be fun for me, though not necessarily of interest to you. I'll do what I can. Only other option is for you to read realms of homespun poems on the various faces of grief. Consider yourself lucky at the alternative!

So, for now Joel continues to seem fairly stable and he is very happy. He's been eating again, only with more enthusiasm and larger amounts than ever before. Through the course of one day, he polished off a small jar of blueberry "dessert." Yup. I feed him all the overly sugared dessert-y time baby food that you are normally supposed to avoid.

Because that is what he enjoys, and right now feeding orally is mostly for enjoyment. Because he's never going to live to get Type II diabetes anyway. Because he's also never going to get to enjoy a B-B-Q steak, sushi, lobster, etc, so I figure he sort of deserves to be lean on the veggies and heavy on the dessert. Though I do give him small spoons of a bit of veggies or chicken, just to try and develop a taste for it, and he tolerates this, in the hopes of a special treat of ice cream. So I'm not completely negligent. We just make a lot of exceptions to the rules, since we have the perfect excuse. Whose going to argue with "he's dying?"

I was hesitant to even tell anyone about Joel starting to eat again. Reason being that he's started to do so many things and then lost them. It's too disheartening to have to tell people, when they ask, that he doesn't do it anymore. Like when he would say "Ma" to me. Then he stopped. Well, he still has times were he sort of does it, infrequently. But not like before. Eating has always been really off and on for him, it's something I know might not last very long this time either. I just hate the thought of being asked "How's the feeding going?" only to have to tell people that Joel doesn't do it anymore. So if you actually get to see me in real life, can you maybe try to remember not to ask? And I will try and tell you myself, if there is any "good" news about it.

For now, though, it is going great. He seems to be really enjoying it (which is the one and only reason I bother to do it). He even seems, at times, to be "asking" for food. Smacking his lips and sticking out his tongue, with lots of "sweet talk" mixed in there. No crying or fussing when I give him the food. And so far he is swallowing it without any difficulty. No aspiration pneumonia. :)

It is such a crazy disease. He's swallowing baby food no problem. Even melted ice cream. But his epiglottis is still falling back when he breathes. I can hear it so clearly when he is awake and sitting in my arms. It truly sounds a bit frightening, if you are not used to it. Clear obstruction. And no difficulty swallowing food. A mystery to me.

So, if things go well for a short stretch, there might be times where I just write about something on my mind, even if it's not directly about Joel. Maybe you might even be "forced" to read some of my not-so-talented poetry, if I feel like inflicting you with it. And then again, at any time, there might be lots of material generated by crazy Joel related stuff, turning things upside down with out warning. Well, consider this your warning! And be thankful that I really couldn't find a hundred words for snow. Or grief.