Vaccine, Finally

F. gets his first shot of the Pfizer vaccine today.

Leaving Winter's Cocoon

There are days I feel the presence and consolation of God’s protection, and days I don’t. The sinister variants are still out there. But it’s unseasonably warm here in Minnesota--that season when everything is tossed up in the air: brilliant and warm one day, a snowy blizzard the next. I feel vulnerable, a little afraid, a little hesitant about leaving my winter’s cocoon. I am not quite sure I can meet the demands of a life more exposed.

Small, Wondrous Things

I’m trying to stay positive, focus on the two little girls I’m teaching to read, getting Max through his two courses. Hoping for a vaccine for F. in the next weeks or months. Still in a sort of stasis but trying to envision a realistic future. On April 15, two weeks past my second dose of vaccine, I’m going to celebrate: get together with my best friend and her partner, get my hair cut! Small, wondrous things.

A Brother Lost to Covid

Tim, Joe’s brother, has just died of covid. This feels like a crushing defeat. I remember Tim from my teens, as young and slim, sandy-haired and blue-eyed. (This may or may not be accurate). Defined by the tantalizing news that he played minor-league baseball—and was later drafted by the Atlanta Braves. A sort of golden boy, fascinating but remote, like a beautiful planet.

I feel an implacable undertow of grief. Death is too close and out of my control.