A pointed stick

Everyone has it rough right now. I still feel pretty lucky mind you.

Covid-19 is sweeping the globe. We’re all on lockdown. Here? Me? We had a 5.7 quake a few weeks ago, about threw me out of bed. Crazy. That was followed by rigorous aftershocks. The same day the pound/dollar rate collapsed crashing my income.

My wife’s mother is already real sick with a variety of issues – three paramedic calls in a week so far. My mother, already high risk from a year of chemo just got took to the hospital with a seizure and possible stroke/brain bleed/brain cancer.

Neither of us can leave the house to visit or help with my wife’s mother; there’s certainly not a chance in hell we can jump on a plane to the UK and help there either. Helplessness abounds on so many levels.

My dad told me he loved me on the phone today. We’re super close but we’re archetypal men. We don’t say that ever. Not from lack of ever not feeling it, or knowing it’s fine to share that. Still. That one shook me today. Some post call tears on my side, pretty sure I heard him too as we hung up.

Today’s been a particularly tough one all said. Still. There’s a roof over everyone’s head I know. We all have food. We’re all still here and muddling by…and then watching CNN tonight, Anderson Cooper struggling to praise a health worker with the right words for her bravery said, “you’re the pointy edge of the spear”. Day, week and month made for me. I mean if you can’t smile at that 😅

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