The nightmare is finally fading away though it's not gone completely yet. Like a post-surgical dream (I've had plenty of those), awakening to a changed reality in a hospital room is akin to how many of us feel today. Looking around it seems to be a completely different world. But two treasured people in my life were on the other side. With my son, there has been some nasty things…
I have my own share of bad cop stories. This phenomenon is not new. My most direct bad cop story is about a friend of mine who drove from Valdosta, GA, to New Orleans in the early 70s. Sheryl was a long-haired hippy about my size; we all were hippies back then at Valdosta State College. As he was driving to Mardi Gras through Alabama, he was stopped by a cop out in a rural area somewhere. He was never charged, just stuck in jail overnight. I do not believe he had broken any laws.
"All I have is a voice" is a quote from W.H. Auden. I was looking for a pithy way of saying my main thought this morning and stumbled on that quote. It's not just pithy but it is my full truth right now. As my body slowly (and sometimes dang quickly) betrays me, sometimes all I have left is my voice. I have kept that voice depressed (yes, I have not spoken up as I wanted). Many that know me think all that I am is a voice, a mouthy old lady who just won't shut up. I have kept silent on too many things for way too long.
Having the world slow down and turn to mostly online interactions only, I found this new world to be a mixed blessing. As my physical issues have increased over the past 5 years, it's been increasingly harder for me to get out and about easily. I'm also basically an introvert as well so withdrawing into semi-isolation is quite normal for me. Then came COVID-19. And my social life picked up.
These troubled times are highlighting problems that even I was ignoring. I’ve had trouble shopping for years and with my new crutches, I’m better able to get in and choose what I want but then have issues because I can’t manage a shopping cart on crutches. ‘Tis a frustrating issue that’s turned in to a much larger dilemma. Now we can’t even be safe walking into a store. We are both at-risk seniors, meaning we’re home until this improves.
I guess we have to be grateful to not have elections as often as some other countries do but I truly hate this “democratic process”. Over fifty years of watching politics, little has changed. The most important part of a office seeker is not their promises and I seem to be in a minority on this aspect. Do you remember Herbert Hoover’s campaign in 1928? His real motto was “Who But Hoover” but the catchy chicken in every pot and 2 cars in every garage is what is more likely to be remembered. When I looked up the details, I found this was not his motto but what his critics claimed he was promising.
I’m no optimist but my pessimist side stays in the background more and more. Recently, it’s been hard to maintain an even keel due to physical issues and then I suddenly realized something yesterday. I am survivor. In that I keep going no matter what happens. I find it hard to believe life has to be this hard forever, but I’m not optimistic that it won’t either. So really not an optimistic or pessimist. I believe those labels are detrimental to our well-being even if you include realism as a third option. Instead, let’s talk about how you act on the feelings you have.