With hopes that your heart has every reason to feel happy and your mind peaceful, today, I’ve been reminding myself, daily, to choose to live in the moment in order to fully appreciate the current state of my health compared to that which had been true seven months back when I’d just come home (bald as an eagle), following my third life saving surgery within a year’s time (the first two having been one day apart at the heart/cancer center in Houston, Texas). Now, if we recall many months of chemo treatments so harsh as to have seen additional hospitalizations each time my circulatory system was desperate for emergency blood transfusions then what more needs be added to all of the above other than— thank God, I’m alive!
My sister, Lauren and her husband, Mickey, flew home to the icy Midwest today. Though they were here for 10 days, we spent their entire stay apart—because the day after they’d landed in the southwestern desert, they’d been directly exposed to their daughter, Jessica’s untimely bout with Covid the day before she’d proved symptomatic and tested positive. Sigh.
Today, we visited, together (on my patio), masked, for about an hour until they left to meet a newly recovered Jess for lunch before heading for the airport. And though these past ten days had been dispiriting, all around, thank goodness, Jess was not seriously ill, so, yet again, all’s well that ends well. Well—not really ‘well’—as Jess continues to grieve deeply during the aftermath of her husband, Shawn’s sudden death, last September.
Jess has felt utterly lost without Shawn, understandably so. They’d been high school sweethearts, sharing every aspect of their lives since the tender age of fifteen. Much to our heartfelt welcome, they’d chosen to stop shivering through darkly cloudy, frozen midwestern winters in favor of moving to our southwestern desert in order to bask neath sunny blue skies about seven years ago.
Steven and Ravi had planned to be with us, today, as they, too, had not seen Lauren and Mickey during covid’s incubation time. However, upon awakening, Steven felt under the weather. A respiratory virus (not covid) had made its way through his office staff, and though he continues to work from home, he must have caught it, during the day that he’d stopped by his law office (masked) to pick up his mail.
As for me, I continue to dodge bullets: In December, Barry tested positive for covid the day that he’d planned to drive here from CA with his family. In January, Steven caught covid several days after we were together. This month, Jess became symptomatic with covid the day before Will and I were supposed to be with her (and Lauren and Mickey). And currently, Steven’s vrus exposed itself, today, rather than tomorrow. My single lung is not yet ready to handle an infection, which is why Will and I continue to quarantine more strictly than everyone we know except for one dear friend who has been battling an inoperable brain tumor.
And now, since I don’t want to give myself a ‘konahorah’ (Yiddish for turning good luck to bad), that’s all I’ll say about dodging bullets except for the fact that it’s been my good fortune to have remained virus-free while my remaining lung works overtime to oxygenate both sides of my body at the same time that a variety of upper respiratory infections have been attacking the good health of my extended family, so close to home.
As to why I’d not worn my writer’s cap while my sister was in town—the depths of my grief based in overwhelming sadness associated with Shawn’s recent death had, once again, fully emerged while my beloved niece, Jessica—having re-experienced the arousal of all consuming grief while she was alone in her apartment with covid firmly gripping her body—had been separated from her parents, who’d quarantined themselves within the guest room of their friends’ home—and the fact that tbis sad state of mind proved contagious anongst us had offered sound reason to cast platitudes aside while each of our hearts grappled with fate’s impartial unfairness, yet again.
And hopefully, now you can see why my intuitive thought process began today’s post with—Thank God I’m alive—being that, over these past couple of days, I’ve worked consciously to redirect my attitude so as to regain a mindful sense of self control over my personal perspective so as to fully re-engage my whole mind with a positive outlook on life.
As to why my storyteller felt free to open the door to my high school experience at this specific time—well, though I believe the emergence of insight has passed that deeply meaningful answer into the conscious portion of my mind, freeing me of subconscious fear so as to openly examine both sides of that crucial time in my life, my processor has wearied, and I’m hoping that my power of intuitive thought will channel my next post toward delving ever more deeply into High School part 2. So with today’s intuitive intention clearly stated, I’ll close by wishing you and your loved ones a happy, peaceful sense of good health, brimming with gratitude (not platitudes), today.
🙋🏻♀️Annie
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