Coughing

I feel marginally better after a hot shower but still I sound like a seal with my barking cough. They say around here it’s Mountain Cedar but I feel like I’ve been invaded by a super nasty Texas sized virus.  On TV the weathermen are warning of 16 degrees Wednesday morning, bring in your pets! cover your plants! In Egypt, will forcing out Mubarek open the door to Islamic extremists? Will Israel be swallowed up? Will the United States be invaded, split into new territories that have no resemblance to the states they were before? Will women be required to cover their heads, stay home? With whom?  Where are the husbands? Forty percent of children are now born out of wedlock. Fifty percent of marriages end in divorce.  We’re doomed!  Oh, if I could just turn back the clock, how far would I turn it?  Back to the 1990s when we had such hope for our lives in Coarsegold, or back to the 1980s when I was happy at the Sand & Sea, or back to the 1970s when I was in love with Roger, or the 1960s when my friends and I were at school? Would I turn it all the way back to before I was born, so that I would not be born into a world on the brink of annihilation?  My dog is quiet, patiently waiting for supper. My stomach is starting to hurt. I’m hungry but I don’t know what I want. The freezer is full of food that doesn’t appeal to me. At least I have a freezer. At least I have food I don’t want to eat. At least I have eyes to see the food, hands to type these words. Gratitude, gratitude, we are told. Be grateful.  I’m grateful for the life I’ve lived full of friendships and days at the beach. I’m grateful for my husband who, tonight, is in San Antonio, right now drinking a beer with someone who’s flown from Minneapolis to see him. An excuse to get out of the snow? or is this the turning point for us? Are happier, healthier, wealthier days on the horizon?  Have we suffered enough?  Of course not. There is no end to suffering. With every attachment comes the pain of loss. But still. Some good is bound to come our way, eventually. So, I’ll plan to go to the local TV station tomorrow and talk about my upcoming class. I’ll put everything together tonight. I’ll get up and walk the dog, get dressed and just go. I’ll take a big slurp of cough medicine and put on my public face. I’ll be a trooper. I’ll walk the walk. And someone will hear me. Just like Eric heard me on the radio that night I did a reading for KXLU. He sent me a book and I showed it to Karen and they ended up getting married, for goodness sake. So, I cast my seeds. Some will be eaten by birds. Some will dry up and die. But some will take root.