I’ve been following @Laddie’s blog, Test, Guess and Go for some time now. Laddie, with her husband, splits her year between the Twin Cities and the Arizona desert. Here’s her latest blog entry.
I tried to respond to her on the blog-site but the technology gods wouldn’t let me. So I copied and pasted my response here:
Thanks for this post, Laddie. It captures the physical beauty of another emerging Spring, yet tinged by the foreboding sense of what this might mean to our network of family and friends.
I am in a much different setting than you, perched 12 stories above an urban street scene with snow-capped Mt. St. Helens 50 miles distant. The street, one normally bustling with streetcars, pedestrians, and plenty of traffic, including cars, bicycles, electric scooters and skateboards, is unnaturally quiet. Now, even during “rush hour,” the street is mostly empty, occasionally punctuated by an almost empty streetcar, like the setting of a dystopian sci-fi novel.
I feel that pit in my stomach, too. I have six siblings and the youngest is 63. Most of them have some chronic health condition and none of us would end up on the desirable side of a frightening ICU triage decision. This steels my resolve to stay well and sustains my daily precautions. We can’t control fate and must accept that many aspects of life are beyond our control.
While I’m not a religious person, I’m gaining a new appreciation that embracing an attitude that everything will be okay in the end is a powerful tonic to help ease our fears. Taking that leap of faith is the premise of all religion. There’s no good reason that us non-religious types can’t do that, too.
I joined my daughter, her boyfriend and his daughter at dinner last night using FaceTime. It was a surprisingly satisfying interaction, one I hadn’t used before. Since I live alone, except for my dog, this video connection mitigates my aloneness.
My dog, Norm’s companionship at this time is a blessing that I’m thankful for every day. He will be 12 next month and reminds me of how short all our lives are. I know that you lost your dog recently; I’m amazed at how valuable these creatures are to humans.
Be well, Laddie! My thoughts are with you.
