Quiet Times

Do you ever have quiet times, Ms J? Or long for them? I mean times when there is nothing to say, nothing to discuss. Times when you wish the world might leave you alone for a few days? My thoughts have been moving in that direction today. But Life's demands are sometimes hard to ignore.

Andra needs me as a client to help with her dental training in Toronto.

Meagan has three (THREE!) more appointments with her dentist in Streetsville this month.

The lawn is getting shaggy and desperately needs mowing, but Alan's old car is still in the driveway and still blocking access to the garage.

I've earned less than half of what I made last pay and I worry about having enough to cover the bills in two weeks.

I don't mean to sound ungrateful, Ms J. I'm not, you know.

Andra is a dear and true friend. She held my hand for months and helped me cope with a broken heart after my marriage failed in 2000.

Meagan is my daughter. I adore her. She's important, and so is her oral health.

Alan will move his car. I've phoned him and he'll come next weekend. I'm glad at last to have a lawn after years of apartment living.

And I'll get by. The bills will be paid. They always seem to. Somehow.

Things could be worse, Ms Journal. I could be dying of lung cancer like my friend, Shirley. I visited her today. I stayed about an hour. She looks pretty good. Tired though. And on continuous oxygen. She hugged me. And we laughed together. Turns out she knows my sister through a mutual friend.

"Small world," she said.

"But I wouldn't want to paint it," was my reply and we laughed some more.

Such a gentle soul, Shirley is. Sweet. Hospitable. Down-to-earth. And terminally ill.

Life is sweet, Ms Journal. Despite the current chaotic state of my Life, it's still sweet.

Sweet.

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