Rockaway Park, Monday April 12, 2021
I have an appointment to get my eyes tested at 5pm. My glasses are taped together. It required an infraction of this magnitude for me to schedule this overdue test. No corrective lenses would have helped me see this time coming. Still, here we are.
I just learned that my parents have been scheduled for vaccinations. I immediately got a splitting headache. As if the stress I’d been carrying was trying to chisel an escape route out of my body, through my brain. It brings a relief beyond cliche, and beyond belief. I got my first shot last week. I know many of you are still waiting for your vaccinations. I know some of you have lost family and friends to COVID. I do not take any of this lightly. I am very grateful to be okay.
The wildflowers are popping up where wild flowers are still permitted. Elsewhere, the carefully chosen bulbs are making their scheduled appearances. Together they joyfully and politely announce the arrival of spring. Spring. Science. Hope. There is hope in the air again. The doctor says I have allergies now. I never had allergies before. I hope I am not allergic to this, well, to this hope.
My friend the DoctorDoctor, sent me an interesting article recently: ‘How unrealistic optimism is maintained in the face of reality’ . I read enough of it to believe it, before hiding it beneath my imaginary pension plan. I’ll take any optimism I can.
There are small windows of time to write. I am trying to take those. Saoirse is sleeping. She is full of talk. She dances on the beach and sings to her stuffed animals. She finds magic in the ordinary. It’s a gift. I am so grateful to have had such an uninterrupted spell of time with her.
Thanks for reading, thanks for listening,
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