Thursday, November 13th

YESTERDAY I picked a few marigolds, a tiny blue primrose, and some bachelor’s buttons—the very last of the garden. I don’t remember an autumn when hard frost held off so long, but now we are in for it. In a way I am glad, as I was afraid the tulips would think it was spring.

I have been in limbo because of a scare about possible cancer. I was in the hospital for three days for a biopsy, and yesterday, home again, heard that all is well. The small lump proved to be only basal cell carcinoma, a kind that does not spread. These three days in the hospital I was in such mental anguish over a misunderstanding with Anne Woodson that I went through the whole thing floated somewhere above it, hardly caring what they did to me. I had insisted on a spinal anesthetic so that my head would stay clear, and it worked. I have had none of the queer sensations I had after the anesthetic when my tonsils were removed. Now I can finish the book. There is only the preface.

I have thought a lot about differences of temperament. I react too fast often, and blow off steam. My tempo is very fast about everything. I start the day very early and at full speed and collapse by eight P.M. Anne reacts with a slow burn, buries anger. Her silence can be as punishing as my anger. Our misunderstanding grew acute because I needled, and the more I did, the more silent she became. There is no black and white in such situations. Everyone gets hurt. Anne starts the day slowly and goes to bed late, and so on. It is as though we were on different tracks. But this whole thing has been brewing for ages and in the end facing it will make our relationship better than it has been for a long time. There is no growth without pain, I guess.

In the hospital I thought of other things too, of course. I realized that I am not afraid of dying, but what made me feel awful was what a mess it will be when I do, and what a lot of work involved for those who will have to take care of things here. I felt, “I simply cannot die and leave all this to be taken care of!”

It was wonderful to come back here day before yesterday to the shining dark blue sea, to the wide arc of the ocean, now that the leaves have gone.