Good Friday came early this year. It began in the morning when I asked Dennis how he was feeling. He said, “Good.” And he said it without hesitation or qualification. I was so amazed, that I asked follow-up questions. How’s the pain? Any nausea? Are you leaking? He said, “OK.” “None.” “No.” (We always try to converse in sentences of three words or less…and we succeed wildly!) Well, I was so thrilled, I decided right then to make an appointment for a hair cut. Dennis hasn’t had one since b.c.w. (Before Classic Whipple…see previous blog) And both hairs needed to be clipped. Dennis requested that I not use the toenail clippers this time. Since this was such a special occasion, he thought it warranted a real barber. I don’t know what the big deal is. After all, I graduated with honors from the Sweeney Todd School of Cosmotology and Meat Pies, and I can split hairs with the best of them! But whatever.
I had a premonition it was going to be a good day while I was on my morning walk. Just as I was rounding a corner deep in mental oblivion, I was met by a strange and rather foul odor. I was pretty sure it was not coming from me because, as is my custom, I had brushed my teeth just prior to inflicting myself on society. But with every step, the odor intensified. Being the usual quick study that I am, I finally identified it as the unmistakable “eau de skunk.” Judging by the intensity, it had to be a whole herd of the creatures. (yes, “herd!”) With each reluctant step, the “odorometer” increased until I really got worried, and I thought, “Oh Great! It’s dark, and I’m all alone. And I’m about to be attacked by a pride of kamikaze skunks! Now what do I do?” But just at that moment, the “Pissy” arose in me. And it wasn’t Pissy, the Mutated Dwarf. It was Pissy on Human Growth Hormones…Pissy on steroids…Pissy on performance-enhancing drugs! I was ready to engage. In fact, I welcomed the encounter. What a perfect outlet for my pent-up rage, going head to head with glorified rodents. Game on! But just when I was ready to go to the mattresses, the odor began to dissipate and eventually disappear. My heart stopped pounding, I removed the brass knuckles, and Pissy shrank down to his normal diminutive size and returned to the inner recesses of my subliminal attitude. I resumed my walk convinced that it was going to be a good day. Sometimes premonitions are really weird, but not to be denied.
I love words. Those who know me well…and read the blog…can attest to that! Words have such power. They can do collateral damage, it is true. But, more important, they have the ability to enable, to nourish, to re-direct, to over-come, to encourage, reassure, and define, to comfort, to give meaning, and to transcend predicament. There is a group of Baptist prayer warriors in
Dennis and I went walking at
Tonight we will make a pot of gruel and watch Bull Riders Only to see if Renato Nunes will stay the 8 seconds on “Booger Butt.” Can’t wait! We have had so many moments of appreciation today, none the least of which is the fact that Dennis can no longer eat and run. Now he simply absorbs and remains. This is a good thing. Adversity and joy can reside simultaneously with a fair amount of companionability. Thank you for sharing both.
All our love,