I always crash a bit after surgery, surgery makes me feel old, and I usually don’t feel old or think much about it. Hospitals can bring it into focus.
I am feeling funky and reflective. This surgery wiped me out and I am still recovering from it. It gets better every today, and tomorrow I hope to get back to my gym to ride on my bike.
Because of the pandemic rising, Maria and I are staying at home most nights. Today we drove to Williamstown to pick up some Chinese and Indian take-out.
Every day, we try to drive somewhere. I miss those quiet evenings where we sit around and talk with friends. But Maria and I also cherish our time together.
We are both reading Ann Cleeve mysteries at the moment, and I love this portrait study of Maria reading in the living room. We are both passionate readers and the pandemic has nourished my love of books all over again.
When I reflect too much, as I did today, I get sad. Maybe that’s why I write so much. But I love writing so much that I end up feeling good.
A conundrum, I think is what they call it. I need to be patient, which I’m not good at. And accepting life, which I’m getting better at. In a few minutes, I’ll be sitting on the other side of that table, reading my own mystery along with Maria, whose light shines all through my life.
What a lovely thought / compliment: “…with Maria whose light shines all through my life.”
Such a beautiful picture, Jon and Maria! I could join you since I am also reading an Ann Cleeves mystery. Nevertheless, the real mystery for me actually is what is happening with all those strings of yarn hanging from the light? I know something creative is coming!
Aww Jon how sweet: “…Maria is a light that snines in my life…” Love that line, I may use it to describe the love I feel for my daughter and my dog. Again, thank you for the blog and clearly your energy is up! Have fun with Betty.
A beautiful portrait of Maria. Yarn hanging from the lamp and Maria reading a yarn.
May her light continue to nourish you.
I keep thinking how different our collective life would be if we all read books.
I love to read, too, and for Christmas, my daughter gave me the hard-cover of your book, “Rose in a Storm,” one of the few books of yours I didn’t have. Our libraries are “order-on-line-then-drive-up-for curb-service-pickup” only which has slowed down the obtaining process of books greatly. Thanks for the All Cleeves’ mysteries tip, too. Love the painting of Lenore in this photo of Maria reading.
Sounds like recovery for each of you is going well. Surgery is such a shock to the system which I repress or forget or the drugs soften it all to a tolerable level. I look at myself in the mirror or at my arms and legs and wonder who that belongs to. I don’t recognize myself physically as an injured but healing person. Kind of like looking at dogs on Dr. Jeff or Pit Bulls and Parolees after they have had life saving surgery. They are completely occupied coping with the surgery but you know they are going to heal. It is hard to keep those two concepts – positive injury and healing – in one perspective especially when we are the doggy.