I often think of life events as bittersweet. But through this virus crisis I’m seeing things as even more bitter or more sweet. The bitters are bitter bitter and the sweets are sweet sweet.
There’s been so much to be sad/mad about this February. But I only have one more blog post of ranting left for the month. So I figured I would just list some things that have gotten to me
Growing up in the salvation Army, I started learning how to play a brass instrument around the same time I learned to walk. And I fell in love with it. My entire history of playing euphonium up until my mid 20s was in a brass band.
So February continues to show its nastiness. We’ve had some not terribly significant snow but enough to be a pain in the derrière for me. And then this latest batch was followed by some -20 weather to make sure everything was frozen solid, just so February could finish being a pain by kicking me in the teeth.
I’m tired of being told that someone’s mother’s aunt’s cousin stopped eating pork and now she is running marathons and no longer needs a wheelchair, so therefore I should try that.
Ups and downs, pluses and minuses, good things and not so easy things; that’s life in a nutshell. 2019 was full of great meals, awesome movies, Wonderful new music, really nice books, and good times with my family. It was also full of hard stuff; sickness, hospital visits, ambulance rides, deaths in the street community, exhaustion at work for Erinn, and the uncertainty of life around every corner.
I’m listening to George Michael.
Go ahead and judge me if you must.
I’d do the same to you.
Perhaps my favourite part of the camp is the lake. I so love swimming in lake water. There’s truly nothing else like it in my opinion. I would go each and every afternoon from the moment the swimming area opened until almost the time we were kicked out by the lifeguards. During the past few years while my body was giving out, some of my friends and the camp staff would haul me down to the water and literally throw me in, and I would simply float around and take in the serenity of it all.
But now that I am in this wheelchair I seem to no longer have a way to get in and out of the water.
This whole ordeal has led me to think about stuff.
(What else is new?)
We’ve been singing a song at church.
“You’re a good, good father,
that’s who you are,
And I am loved by you,
That’s who I am.“
Yesterday, after being told for more than five years that I needed to have my top left wisdom tooth out before it decays too much, I finally decided to get it done.
But it went very wrong.