Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Because I used to see her, once a month, for two years. And she’d always greet me with a friendly face and goofy story, probably her way of trying to mix a little lightheartedness with the heavy smell of the alcohol swabs and chemicals. She’d describe the latest antics of her crazy husband in such an animated way that the needle in my chest was like another member of the audience rather than an intrusion. I’d glance at the old woman in the chair next to me, the scarf around her bald head, the blanket tucked under her chin, sleepy, yet alert enough to follow along. Truthfully, all of us welcomed this distraction. She probably knew that.
She asked if I still had it. I covered my chest with my hand and smiled as I answered.
I thought about this bond we shared, as I walked to my car. And the depth of our connection I didn’t know, ten minutes earlier, even existed.
She’s one of my heros.
Monday, October 5, 2009
How do you make a decision between two uncertainties?
I think my answer to that question is different now than it used to be even a few years ago. I’m figuring out that my answer to a lot of things now is different than the recent past. Age, hormones (or lack of), experience, circumstance, evolution all probably contribute. Some events have changed me forever and I keep trying to figure out who I am now, why do I react this way instead of the usual that way? And sometimes I have flashbacks of the person I've been the last four decades. Is this what middle agedness looks like?
I’m trying to embrace the uncertainty in life. Because there is so much uncertainty, and getting my arms around it might help.
I'm not sure.