Lists - Arthur Powers
I’ve always made lists. Even when Therese was alive.
“Sometimes,” I told her once, “if I do something that’s not on my list, I write it down just so I can cross it out.”
“I do too,” she laughed. “Isn’t it fun!”
Curly gray hair, gray-green eyes, smiling up at me. Alive.
Lists were less serious then. Therese kept me in order. “George, you have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. Remember to pick up your prescription. Did you take your heart pill? – don’t want you popping off on me.”
But she was the one who popped off. Suddenly. No warning.
*
I often lost my lists back then. It didn’t matter much, because she kept track of things, reminded me. But now I never lose them. Maybe because I have to have them. Maybe because my life has less disruptions.
Because, though she kept my life in order, she also disrupted it. She’d walk into my home office and say, “Let’s hike around Shelly Lake,” or “I called Fran and we’re meeting them at Irregardless in half an hour,” or “Here’s your jacket, George – you’re taking me to the art museum.” Always, always I would think – I don’t want to do this, this isn’t something I planned to do today. Then, after about five seconds, I’d haul myself out of my chair and go with her. And, almost always, I’d be glad later that I did. Almost all those times made me feel more alive. Some were fun, some memorable.
*
There is an art to lists. One has to know what to put down. To be specific enough, but not too specific.
Big tasks, for instance, can be broken down into sub-tasks. That really helps. It makes them more manageable. For instance – “Buy Christmas presents” may be too broad. My list last Christmas read:
Buy Christmas presents
Paul & Angie
Miriam
Madison
Timmy
Therese
Dorothy Day bio
Irish sweater
Earrings? (ask Miriam)
Wrap Christmas presents (P&A, Mir, Mad, Tim, Therese 1 2 3 4)
Mail Christmas presents (P&A, Mir, Mad, Tim)
And so on. Of course, one can get ridiculous. “Wrap Christmas presents” could be broken down to a dozen discrete tasks (measure wrapping paper, cut wrapping paper, take Scotch tape out of drawer, etc.), but that would be silly.
*
Fran left a message on the voice mail, asking me over to dinner tomorrow. I’ll have to call her back. I’ll put it on my list.
I never know what to say to her and John. We sit there in their welcoming, attractive living room, or – later – around their mahogany dinner table, and I find myself wanting to talk, to be communicative, but searching for things to say.
Therese never had that problem. I remember one Saturday morning saying to her, “If there weren’t people around, you’d talk to the trees.” That afternoon, we went to Shelly Lake and the first thing out of the car, starting down the path, she goes up to a tree, and says,
“Good afternoon, Mr. Pine. I trust all is well with you, and with all the little Pines. You’re right to wave your arms – it is a beautiful afternoon. Do you know what George said to me this morning – why you’ll hardly believe it…”
Two couples heading up the path paused, looking at a petite, curly headed, sixty-year-old woman gracefully motioning with her arms, deep in conversation with a tree. They smiled, moving slowly by.
“Therese,” I said.
“Just a minute, George. I’m talking with Mr. Pine.”
“I believe that’s a spruce,” I said.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Spruce. I’m just terrible with names…”
*
I called Fran. I timed the call so that they’d probably be out, so that I could leave a voice message. I thanked her and told her that I wouldn’t be able to make it tomorrow. She won’t believe me probably – that I couldn’t make it. But she’ll accept the excuse for the time being.
That was the last thing on my list. My list today was:
Write birthday card and check for Timmy
Pick up heart pills
Mail birthday card
Pick up half & half, peanut butter, fruit.
Call Fran & John
I’ve done all that. There’s nothing left.
I could put on my list to find a book to read. To read the book. But there’s nothing I feel like reading.
I could put on my list to call Miriam. But Miriam would want to talk, to tell me about Madison, to ask about Paul and Angie and Timmy. I don’t feel like talking.
I could put on my list
Breathe
Or even
Breathe in
Breathe out
But that would be ridiculous.
*
Die
Did I put that on the list? It’s there – just below “Call Fran & John.” Did I write it down? It may be my handwriting.
*
When we were in graduate school – the first year we were married – I read a book by a guy who had lived through the Holocaust. I don’t remember his name now, but the book was famous at the time. I think it was called “Man’s Search for Meaning.” I think the guy’s name was Frankl. Yes, I think that’s it.
Anyhow, he was a psychologist, and he told the story of a widower who came to him sad and angry and blaming God because his wife had died and left him alone. Frankl asked him if he felt lonely and abandoned, and he said he did. Then Frankl asked him if he realized that, if he had died first, that his wife would be here, alone, feeling lonely and abandoned. The man had never thought of that. He squared his shoulders and went off feeling proud, feeling that he was bearing a burden to protect his wife.
I think about that story a lot.
*
The phone is ringing. I should go pick it up, but don’t really feel like it. The machine will take a message.
Die
Of course that’s a pretty big item for a single entry. I could break it up a bit –
Get sick
Plan funeral
Check will
Check insurance
Put papers together
But that seems a lot of work. Too many details. Too long a list.
Of course I cou…
Originally published by Prime Number, February 2012
Arthur Powers went to Brazil in 1969 as a Peace Corps Volunteer and lived there most his adult life. He and his wife now live in Raleigh, North Carolina, close to their two daughters and granddaughter.
Arthur is author of two collections of short stories set in Brazil: A Hero For The People (Press 53) and Padre Raimundo's Army (Wiseblood Books). He received a Fellowship in Fiction from the Massachusetts Artists Foundation and many other writing honors, including four Pushcart nominations. His fiction and poetry have appeared in America, Apple Valley Review, Chicago Tribune Magazine, Christianity & Literature, Dappled Things, Hiram Poetry Review, Kansas Quarterly, Main Street Rag, Roanoke Review, South Carolina Review, Southern Poetry Review, Windhover, & many other magazines & anthologies. He served as Judge for Winning Writers' Tom Howard short story contest (2014-2016) and on the Board of the Raleigh Review (2013-2019).
Author of: A Hero For The People (2014 CALA Award) https://www.press53.com/arthur-powers,
The Book of Jotham (2012 Tuscany Novella Prize) http://www.amazon.com/The-Book-of-Jotham-ebook/dp/B00B1Z7VWI, and
Padre Raimundo's Army https://www.wisebloodbooks.com/store/p113/padre-raimundo-by-arthur-powers.html
