It's been a tough year for everyone, and the last year for (now) over half a million Americans.
Color or paint the picture any way you see it, but COVID is a killer that flat out refuses to discriminate and is totally color blind.
This past twelve months I've lost friends and friends of friends to COVID. I have also lost friendships because of politics, which is something I never thought would ever happen in my lifetime...either thing. But both have.
The political part is easy for me to justify. I do not think Donald Trump is even remotely close to being a moral or honest person...and sometimes seems borderline humane or even human. If you have to argue back and forth and go on and on about whether or not someone is a crook, bully, misogynist or a racist, odds are...they probably are.
I took statistics in college (twice to pass) and even I know, thems' not good odds.
That's the black and white of it for me.
Which reminds me, don't even get me started on BLM being a mob/thug mentality. If you feel that way, look in the mirror, and you'll see a racist staring back at you.
I kinda feel bad about losing touch with a select few friends after wiping my FB friends' list slate clean... especially life long ones. But if they are (realized or not) racist as their comments or "likes" indicate, especially after the January sixth armed insurrection which killed five people, I'm not really sure I want to associate with them on any kind of level. We simply don't have much in common anymore if our views differ that much, and Life is too short to surround yourself with Hate of any kind.
So in the the words of Gomer
"Lots of luck to you and yours!"
Then COVID came a knocking at the worlds' door, uninvited and most unfortunately ignored for way too long. We should have been mandated to wear masks in public and socially distance right from the get go when shit hit the fan...and our president should have led by example, which he most certainly did not.
#1 Nobody hates wearing a mask more than me. It feels confining, gives me (even more)hot flashes, is a pain in the butt and fogs up my glasses.
#2 Dying or killing others is the other option.
I'll take #1 over #2 every day of the week and twice on Sundays.
I know sports fans are missing all the games and music fans are missing all the concerts. It's only been a year, so just hang in there a little longer and a whole lot more of us will be around to enjoy sports and concerts for years and years to come. Surely that beats the alternative.
The restaurant where I worked closed on March 16, 2020. Just the day before I was talking with one of the chefs and wondered out loud how much longer we would remain open...he guessed several weeks to a month. They closed the doors the next night at the end of the shift. It didn't reopen until mid summer and with limited hours, limited seating and limited staff.
I never went back to work...not that they asked me to, but wouldn't have anyway. I am sixty years old, and smoked cigarettes until four years ago. My respiratory system is like a flashing neon sign for catching COVID's attention. I have fought like crazy to help my lungs pink back up with exercise, concoctions and herbs.
I've remained at home since last March...and next week it will be March once again. For the first month or so I didn't go anywhere other than my own house and yard. I still only leave the house for essentials, mainly groceries, a couple of times a week. We actually cancelled a planned trip to England for our thirtieth wedding anniversary last September. In October we took an already planned vacation with our immediate family to the Keys. We rented a secluded house, cleaned and sanitized daily and just hung out on and around our dock kayaking, floating and snorkeling off the sides of it.
No one around but us, and it was a breath of fresh air after seven long, long months of quarantining at home. My husband and our daughter (who still lives with us) only go to work and come back home. My husband works alone, behind closed doors in his office. They grounded him from traveling...he used to fly out every other week or so for work. My daughter works in an enclosed office with one other person. Her boss happens to be my brother, and I know they take precautions very seriously.
And me?
I'm now just the crazy lady who used to be skinny, on the corner with the barking dogs in her yard.
When the pandemic began I was still around about 98 pounds. I currently weigh 107...for the first time in over ten years. I work and play in the yards and gardens all the time, and love every minute of it. We have a 400 sq ft screened in porch with two ceiling fans, TV mounted in one corner, enough seating for over ten people to sit down and eat, with a huge table for eating, cards, puzzles and games... a built in Tiki bar complete with mini fridge and high top arm chairs. It's my living room with a view and the best (first) office I've ever had. I can watch birds, squirrels, chipmunks, deer, rabbits, cranes, turtles and other wildlife right from the porch or from a lounge chair under the pergola which leads off of it. Most every thing on the porch was either given to us, made for us or repurposed by us. I have a huge solid oak stump table out there, about three feet high which easily weighs over two hundred pounds. I've had it since the late seventies. Every person who has ever had to move it for me has complained, but where I go, it goes.
It used to be a cocktail table in a restaurant which was above and over the ice skating rink in the Omni Hotel. (Atlanta, the late 70's) It was called Burt's Place...owned by Burt Reynolds.
I also still have the wicker rocker I bought when I had my first apartment alone, in the eighties. It's been used to rock all three of my kids since then , and then some. Besides those two things, everything else was either given or scrounged. My favorite motif when decorating. I never look a gift horse in the mouth. It's what makes things really special to have and enjoy.
Some people call it shabby/chic. I call it shabby/cheap...even better!
A win/win any way you look at it.
I would have already lost my mind if we didn't live here, in the middle of this nature preserve, surrounded by more life forms, plants and flowers than I can count. The house is only seven years younger than me, nothing spectacular to look at from the outside, but who cares? The yards overwhelm the entire property and make every direction a pleasing and beautiful angle to view and enjoy...from inside or out.
The inside isn't fancy but is bright and clean, with a place for everything and everything in its place. No carpets, just tile and hardwood. I've learned to connect with sweeping again in a positive way.
*Every server (especially male) hates sweeping.
I've learned to enjoy just how big I can get my pile of dog hair, dust and foot traffic dirt with one sweep through. I start at the very end and back of the house in the bathroom off our bedroom...and carefully build my pile, always tucking and turning this way and that, as I make my way up the hall, stopping off at each room along the way to bring another pile into play. And let me tell you, with a Boxer and a Doberman, and three humans, tromping and tracking in and out of the house every day and night...it creates quite the noteworthy pile. And them some.
My mother was big on sweeping when we were kids. Just the kitchen, she vacuumed everywhere else. She religiously swept the kitchen floor after absolutely each and every meal we had, no exceptions. Once we got old enough to help, she'd tell us to sweep.
I remember one time she caught me sweeping my pile underneath an antique washstand she'd refurbished, which held her cookbooks by the kitchen table. My pile had been dinky (she swept three times a day) so I just swept it under.
I turned around to see her staring at me, and it took her all of about one second to pop me pretty good, on my corner cutting skinny butt.
I never did it again...but (obviously) still think about it to this very day. Our Momma didn't take short cuts. She didn't cheat. She wasn't lazy. She kept a clean house and every person who walked through our front door was welcomed and felt at ease. She made our home a delightful place to be.
And it was.
I learned from the best.
Granted I was (am) a slow learner, but it finally stuck.
Being with Tim so long has made me a better person, because he is a better person. There's not a mean bone in his body, and he's a pretty big guy...especially compared to me (the not so) Shrinking Violet.
The only person I can think of who can really set him off (and quicker than quick is an understatement) is me.
And I have learned to be quite proficient at it over thirty two years.
Just ask him.
So what? We had a ten year suck ass long time run of some pretty bad luck. It ended didn't it?
That, my friends is progress...and is all you have to do in life, just try and progress.
Never look back, because you can't change it now. No matter how hard you try.
And don't worry about how long it takes to get there, worry about if you're taking the right road.
Sometimes in life, short cuts aren't the best route, and my life is absolutely one hundred percent proof of that very fact.
What gets you through it, is being the best person you can be.
Day after day after day after day...
Our bad luck lasted one decade, but so what? We had two great decades together before that and look forward to having hopefully a couple more even better ones before our number is called.
Tim's always been of the mindset "We can be better than this" and leads by example, every day of his life. With all the battles we've had, the ones between us both were the hardest to take.
Lucky for us we both won.
Judging by our three grown children, lessons were received and well learned.
They have all been through their own stuff and not only survived but thrived.
With everything thing going on in this crazy world, the most important thing right now, if you want to have a better chance of having a tomorrow is this...
Don't go out without one.
You feel fine? That's great! But unfortunately you may be asymptomatic and killing other people by spreading the virus you unknowingly have. It's science not politics.
Do I miss the olden days of yore, pre 2020?
Of course I do, but sure don't want to miss any part of 2021 or hopefully a few more years.
The older I get the more grateful I am.
Till next time...
COTTON
No comments:
Post a Comment