The AnkleA Story by Phillip W Parsons THE INCIDENT PART 1 February 9th, 2019 4:50 P.M. The day started like any other Saturday, with one major exception. Inches of early morning snow blanketed the Puget Sound in a shroud of white and the cool, pale sun reflected diamond-like upon the perfect lawns, sidewalks and sports fields. The city was (as the city always is) split evenly in two by the unusual winter storm. Half were lamenting the slick inconvenience that had descended like a plague of inefficiency upon the town that Amazon ran like a Swiss watch. The sheer amount of snow was unusual for our city and the fact that it snowed and stayed below freezing was something no one could readily recall happening in Seattle during their lifetime. This was something large-scale enough that not even Jeff Bezos could control it. And so the city shut down. Mostly... The other half of the population? Well, they were mostly children, and adults who'd failed to mature. Among them, myself. We woke up several times during the night to see if the promise of snow was real or just another pipe dream. Growing up in the Northwest I've learned to read the tea leaves. First, -"100% chance of snow on Friday! Buckle up, things are going to get bad! Showers starting at 3 P.M. and continuing until June! Expected accumulations of 2-30 inches!" Then, -"Updated forecast shows a high pressure front moving in from the south, delaying snow showers until at least 9 P.M. Temps raising above freezing after midnight. Rain mixed with snow by morning, turning to rain showers by the time you wake up." Finally, -"Our new model shows a single snowflake drifting across a warming sky like the star of Bethlehem, leaving believers in wonder, followed by 2 months of rain." Meanwhile, all us children, layered for the blizzard at exactly 3 P.M. on Friday, sleds in hands, staring out the front room windows, stood in silent vigil as our hopes were slowly crushed by forecast after forecast. We could not disrobe until we actually saw rain! If there was a moment of white, you had to act swiftly and immediately! Sweat ran in rivulets beneath our winter clothing like blue streams beneath glaciers! Parents warned us of overheating but we did not listen. They confirmed that the storm had been cancelled but we kept the faith! Surely there was no way for them to know! The storm would come and it would be like no other! This was merely a glitch, the misreading of a Doppler blip. The system would right itself and winds saved for the chilly arctic North would reverse themselves, sail down upon the Puget Sound like fog from the freezer and empty those clouds of their wintry burden! Surely, this time! This One Time!!!!! Over and over this pattern played itself out until I became skeptical of any forecast with a snowflake. But this time was different! The snow did come later than predicted on Friday. I was already pshaw-ing the entire ridiculous thought of 6-8 inches. I was preparing myself and my kids and whoever would listen that "This is just what they do to you here! They build up your hopes and then they slowly whittle them away until all you have left in your hands is sawdust instead of snowflakes!" "No!", my wife Lisa responded, "This time it's for real! S'posed to snow for 3 days!" I recognized the delusion in her eyes. We'd all had it before but wasn't she too grown, too seasoned to believe in fairy tales? My only response, the only words I could ever allow myself on this, the most polarizing topic of the season, was.... "I'll believe it when I see it." PART 2 Flashback to Friday Morning Dateline Glenn Way S.W. February 8th, 2019 10:00 A.M. The morning was cold but dry as I drove from C and P Coffee and made my usual way to work, awaiting the left turn signal from California Ave. to Edmunds St. From there I would snake the secondary streets as do all Junction employees in search of a free parking spot that did not have a 2 hour limit. Some days were better than others in the search. This week had already been a boon - I had found the same spot 2 days in a row and saw it come up a third time. The luck! But no! There were more variables to take into consideration on this particular Friday. What if it really does snow? Like REALLY snow? That spot was a beauty but she was too steep, no doubt. The old Corolla was a lot of things, most of them good, but it was no snow car. Not even a rain car, really. More of a dry and straight and level road car. I could park here and come out to find the Corolla stranded until Spring thaw! I circled until I found the perfect spot. Not too far from work and relatively level. Bonus, it was against a driveway so no getting boxed in. "Phil, you evil genius!" I proclaimed as I grabbed my coffee and the grocery bag of warm clothes and boots I'd brought because I might have to walk home through the coming storm. If fatherhood had prepared me for anything, it was moments like this. Be prepared! Bring extra clothes! Bring snacks! You got this!!! The snow began to fall after Noon. Light at first, then steadily it fell and all the patrons of West 5 Restaurant and Cocktail Lounge swiveled on their yellow bar stools to witness the late season miracle. Cel phones are like phasers, they have multiple settings. The sight of snow had caused a mass phaser-setting change and users were shifting from social media and dating sites to Weather. Apple Weather. Google Weather. The Weather Channel app. All channels were opened and readings were coming in from around the region. Predictions and prognostications were shouted out like auction bids from anyone and everyone... "2 to 6 inches by midnight!" "Continuous snow through Tuesday!" "OK, mine just changed to light snow ending in an hour. Minor accumulations." "Shut up! Everyone hates your phone! SNOW!!" "SNOW!!" "SNOW, SNOW, SNOW!!!!!" Did I mention, the half of Seattleites that love snow are made up of children and adults who've failed to mature? That also happens to be the exact demographic of West 5 Restaurant and Cocktail Lounge. And so, there we all were, the city's adult children pining for something we may actually and finally get. Snow! I stood behind the bar refreshing drinks and repeating the same line after every update no matter how reliable the source. "I'll believe it when I see it." And it snowed quite a bit that afternoon. But it didn't stick. And then it stopped. And then I grabbed my bag of clothes and boots and walked to my car and drove home resigned that I had not let cult-like insanity pull me in. I had held the line. It never snows like they said it would. Never. ...and yet I still held that bag of clothes. I'm sure I was the only person with one. Curious.... ....Perhaps I harbored more faith than I could admit.... PART 3 The Miracle Dateline Home February 9th, 2019 6:00 A.M. What? Sometimes I just get up before dawn in the late part of winter. It's not like I was running down the steps to peer wide-eyed out the window onto the deck and alley looking anxiously for something! And if I did happen to be moving particularly smartly that day, it was most likely the urgency of my bladder and not... ....not.... ....OH S**T!!!! ....what bladder???? ....SNOW!!!! So much snow already! Probably 6 inches! At least 6 inches, and still piling on! I stared at it! I contemplated it! With an expert's eye for forgery, I examined its texture, the nature of the flakes, I sought reason to believe it would turn to big puffy flakes and eventually to rain. And after a full and exhausting evaluation, even I had to admit... ....This was the real thing.... ....An original.... The only thing I could think to do was make coffee. Like the men-folk in an olde-timey birthing scene, I needed to be kept busy. Boiling water, tearing sheets, making coffee. Too early to wake anyone up. I stared at the snow, holding my coffee. Too bitter, I thought, looking down at my cup. Better go to the coffee shop, drive around in this beauty before other cars muck it all up. So, I woke up my son. Being 13 and the younger by two years, he was more likely to be persuaded by the excitement of snow. It worked! Adam got up immediately and ran to the window. His exact words I'll never forget, as I really didn't listen to them to begin with. But they were probably "Wow, snow!" or something. He got dressed in snow clothes and ran out into it while I excavated the car and warmed it up. We took our dog, Penny with as we drove our careful, meandering way to C and P Coffee, avoiding the steep hills while still finding some mildly exciting ones to climb and descend. I got a Spicy Mocha. Adam got a hot cocoa. Penny got dog treats and we drove around a bit, looking at the clean, beautiful layer that had blessed our little neighborhood. Adam, Penny, myself and my daughter, Molly stood at the top of a block-long street-sledding party! Parents stood at the top, alley and lower streets checking for traffic and directing kids to get out of the way of sledders. All very efficient. Molly held Penny's leash as Adam and I rode together first. Some little one wandered out into the street and almost felt our wrath but a mindful parent was there to whisk him to safety. All very efficient, indeed. A couple hours had passed since our coffee excursion and Molly had woke up on her 15 year old own, happy to don snow gear and hit the streets. As we walked the sled back up the hill I said, "Hey Adam! See all those parents with travel coffee mugs? I'll bet you that's not coffee!" Adam laughed. At the top of the hill we found Molly holding Penny's leash as the dog pulled and whined. Half husky, she loves the snow and hates it when the Pack is broken up. I looked around and realized I was right about the mugs. There were loose beers and ciders punched into the deep snow for cooling and they were pouring them into their mugs. Apparently this was a Noon Party! Snow changes all the rules! We walked Penny back to the house and I found My travel mug and we went back to the Noon Party. "You guys going down again?" asked one of the moms, her cheeks flush pink with brisk cold, adult beverage and a sudden return to the joys of youth. "Nah", I returned, "we're headed down a block." "Juneau?" she asked. "I heard there's a power line over the road. Be careful. have fun." Adam and I stared wide-eyed at each other and we either said or thought simultaneously, "Power line? Next Level, Bro!!". ....There was no power line.... ....But there was a jump at the halfway point of the two-block hill.... ....Sledding is fun.... ....Walking up hills sucks.... ....We soon gave up and went home.... PART 4 The Turning Point Dateline Home February 9th, 2019 12:26 P.M. Rumors had circulated that West 5 may close midday due to concerns of more snow and slick roads. This had felt unlikely to me as literally EVERY business owner I've ever known has been on the verge of bankruptcy and snow days are cash-cows. Now perhaps there really was a concern over bodily harm, and humanitarianism had won over capitalism, if only for half a day. And perhaps there was a burgeoning power struggle brewing between the manager and owner of the restaurant. None of this will we ever really know, but the following is a transcript of the text message I received at that moment. -We are closed tonight. You are off. -Let me know you got this -Ok. Thanks. Sometimes it is fun to go through your text messages and realize how much can happen between one and the next. To this effect, we shall have what is called a foreshadowing, or spoiler, as it were. The very next text sent between myself and my manager, sitting right below the last, as if no time at all had passed, reads as such... -I'm at the hospital. ~intentionally left blank~ I'll keep you posted. ....The time between those 2 texts....? ....6 hours and 22 minutes.... PART 5 Hero's Journey Dateline Home February 9th, 2019 3:50 P.M. Lisa was taking a nap. Molly had gone sledding with friends. I grabbed my backpack and a short list of provisions: Eggs, cocoa and marshmallows, and I left the house wearing my headphones. Pandora station: Gregory Alan Isakov. I passed Adam, Joey and Clayton (last 2, neighbor boys) perfecting their sled course in the back yard. I reminded them to be careful (ha!) and walked off into the silvery, gold, white of the late day. I had a Saturday off, a true rarity in my profession! I was going to walk down to the Junction, get a drink at the bar I would not have to work at that night, pick up supplies for a chill evening with the family and return unfettered.... ....So I thought.... I took the safest way down off our hill I could imagine, a long set of shaded stairs that led to Fairmont Park and then to Fauntleroy Ave. I held tight to the handrail and stepped carefully upon the snow swept stairway. My boots held firm as I descended and the park came into view! Dozens of adults and children were terraforming the field of snow into piles, walls, forts and an 8 foot tall snowman I could not help but walk to and touch with my glove. Such a feat of engineering! This most unusual day had brought out the town's best and brightest! I took it all in as I made my way to Fauntleroy. Crossing this main road was a cinch. Traffic was nonexistent on this anomalous snow day in late winter. As I walked down the east side of Fauntleroy I came upon the house of my friends Brett and Cheryl Beth. Why not, I thought. I knocked on their door and waited the appropriate time before moving on. ....Later Brett would reply to a facebook post regarding the incident: -You should have come hang out with me. Avoid the whole thing. (paraphrasing) I tried, Brett. I tried.... The path was easy and quite lovely as the sky spilled blue upon the covered pavement. Snow has a way of cleaning up a dirty environment as if a fresh coat of paint. Folk music filled my ears and I turned west at Alaska and started my climb. Now people became more frequent and I noticed that many were carrying grocery bags loaded heavy. None of them wearing gloves or boots, just clothes. Fools, I thought. You do not just walk out into the tundra unprepared. Surely you will all fall and be injured for your lack of preparation! I approached West 5 still wondering if the early close was a figment of my imagination. I was just about on time in case I had to work. I checked my texts one more time. Yup, we would be closed. We'll see... Upon entering, Sonja, the day bartender, asked if I'd heard we were closing early. Victory! "Yes," I said "just dropping by for a drink before I shop." I may have said. Maybe something cooler than that. Maybe not. ....At 4:14 I received a text from Lisa.... -Did you go to work? -I did. Closing in a half hour -Did you walk -I did -Wow -Good job -~thumbs up emoji *It has come to my attention since, that Lisa took that exchange to mean I said I was working. I maintain I simply acknowledged I had walked to my place of work and it was closing in a half hour. PART 6 Fool's Journey Dateline Alaska Junction February 9th, 2019 Sometime previous to 5:20 P.M. From West 5 I walked north to Oregon St. and crossed California. After 1 block I turned right and walked a block to QFC. Once inside I swiftly made my rounds. Eggs, cocoa, marshmallows! And out! For all the day's adventures, the only thing left was to walk home and put on a good Saturday buzz. The kind that other people get to achieve every weekend. Maybe walk around the neighborhood and take in all the parties I've been invited to over the years. "Hey Phil, wanna come to our place Saturday night for a BBQ?" "No thanks. I have to work Saturday." "Can't you get your bar shift covered?" Let's reverse. "Hey Steve, wanna stand in my front yard and drink beer at Noon on Monday?" "No thanks, I have to work Monday." "Can't you get your engineering shift covered?" That text! The one releasing me from my sacred duty to the public. The text that, for one night, made me a normal neighbor. Normal dad. Normal person. -We are closed tonight. You are off. -Let me know you got this -*Oh yeah, I got it! Tonight is my night! I return with my 3 items and the rest of the night is going to be awesome! Thanks so much, whatever the reason. I don't even care if this is a power-play or whatever! I am just so unbelievably thankful to have this one day to be like other people! And I made my last trek toward home. Maybe 12 or 13 blocks. 20 minutes tops. I crossed Alaska and walked across the Bank of America parking lot. There is a nice dirt hill that leads to an alley there. I have ridden down in on by mountain bike many times while riding home from work. Often early morning after closing the bar during Street Fair. There's no parking available during the fair so I ride. Over the years I have enjoyed the nice steep little hill, a quick, safe thrill to end a long day of service! I chose this path for it's nostalgic feel. Freedom! This Saturday, like the release from Street Fair! I descended carefully and made my way to the dirt alley. The way was icy but covered in a layer of snow that provided traction. I watched each step carefully. My last step looked just as each that preceded it, but not. Before I could register what was happening, I was on the ground, my right foot under my left leg. Pain! Blinding! I sat motionless for a time considering my next move, deciding not to try yet. The body has a messaging system all its own. It said "Sit!". After some time I pulled my leg out from under me, convinced I had sprained it pretty bad. But as it came free I felt something wrong! Like a foot-weight held up by skin alone. I lowered the foot and sat still some more. At that moment a car motored down the alley and turned next to me. A man got out and asked if I needed help standing. I told him I did not believe I could stand but thanks, I'm calling my wife. Are you sure? Yes, thank you. Car motored on and I called Lisa. She claims now that she could hear the distress in my voice as I said, "I think I broke my ankle." "Where are you?" ....S**t! I'm squatting in an alley behind the Bank of America but not exactly! I'm near the Masonic Hall but not exactly! I''m near Mod Pizza but not exactly! S**t, s**t, S**T!!!!! I'm panicking! Where the f**k am I? The words are not coming! Or, if they are, they are not making any sense! For a long moment I said nothing, or spewed nonsense.... ....Lisa says she could tell I was in trouble.... ....It was probably nonsense.... ....I told her to meet me at Fauntleroy and Edmunds.... ....At some point I'd sat long enough that I might miss her at Edmunds and Fauntleroy.... ....I had to go.... I pushed sense and nonsense out of my mind and chose a path. I suppose I balanced on my left foot as I prepared to test my right. Shock is an amazing thing! For most it is a negative. It holds us as victim, shaking, unresponsive, unable to think clearly. Shock has killed! But shock has another purpose. Shock makes bad decisions acceptable. I was not in the middle of a forest, doomed to die. I was close to a pick-up area. Something in me knew that I had to move and shock allowed for the unlikely movement I thought I needed. PART 7 Dateline Lost Alleyway West Seattle February 9th, 2019 Sometime In Time Don't get me wrong, my best, smartest move was to stay exactly where I was and let Lisa find me. I am not bragging about my quest. It was stupid! A Fool's Journey! A clearly thinking person would know to sit tight, wait. But ask those who know me if they believe I behave like a clearly thinking person. If anything, I've been waiting my whole life to limp 2 blocks to be rescued! To persevere against all odds! I limped on past other pedestrians stepping light as a feather on my broken right foot, perhaps a pained sneer upon my face keeping passers-by from engaging me, like a determined killer, injured but set to finish the job! Do Not F**k With Me, said my general appearance. The distance was quick, though I have done the math proving otherwise. I was sitting at an iron bench breathing as the Nissan Rogue turned left from Alaska to Fauntleroy and Lisa saw me. I could detect the worry and uncertainty in her eyes through the tinted windows. She was in the passenger's seat of her own car. I probably looked like a marionette with several strings cut, dangling awkward. Out of place at the entry to this lovely and well put-together new construction. West Seattle is changing. Not that long ago, a broken man sitting on a bench in West Seattle would have just been Saturday. Now we call that White Center. Tomorrow we'll call it something else. Eventually, there will be nowhere for a broken man to sit in this city. Our quaint soul being bought up and parceled out piece by piece to the highest bidders. And the only ones complaining are the ones who talk too loud, are rough around the edges, who keep reminding bartenders what it was like when this little bar was a bowling alley, or a slot-car track, or a shoe store. With the passage of enough time, they are the outsiders. Their quaint stories about sledding a couch down Charleston Street during the Last Great Winter Storm back in 19XX! Back in the day! Back when this town didn't suck! Back when you could stay out late and not get attacked! Back when we had each others' back! ....F**k this place.... Lisa and our neighbor Nick (from PART 6) came to me on the bench and helped me to the car. It seemed a longer trek than the one from the alley to the bench. Chalk one up to Einstein's Theory of Relativity! ....At the writing of this story that was the last time I walked without crutches.... ....Someone drove around looking for an open clinic in West Seattle.... ....This town was shut down.... ....Did I mention it was the storm I'd always been looking for? Since I was 8?.... ....Be careful what you wish for.... ....We dropped Nick off at home after much debate. He's a solid guy!.... PART 8 Proof Of Life Dateline West Seattle Bridge February 9th, 2019 Sometime before 6:48 P.M. Lisa sat behind the wheel of the Nissan Rogue, breathing heavily and dealing with her own panic. She was strong in her weakness! I knew she worried about this drive through the snow. Her speed (or lack thereof) proved it. I am the type to keep talking well after any words are necessary. It irks her. It probably is one of my defining characteristics. I just talk. On and on. She kept looking at her phone for directions to the hospital. Navigation was on but she didn't trust it. She was right! It kept telling us to go some place away from the hospitals. Lisa pulled an illegal U-Turn and the navigation finally found its sweet spot and led us to Kaiser Emergency. Now was the time for me to take a last step and let go. I was hurt and this was a hospital. NOT IT!! I must have been among the first injured during Snowmageddon 2019 because we were admitted immediately and before I knew it I was in an emergency room bed and drugs were flowing through my system.... ....Do you remember when I got hit by that truck? Back when we were dating for a month? You broke up with Greg so you could sleep with me but it didn't last because it was an artificial construct? We didn't meet in the right way? You broke up with me and went back to him and I got hit my that truck on my bicycle and you called me one day, like on a land line at Desiree's and Joe's? God! How did people ever even contact each other on land lines? But you called me that one day and told me how bad you felt for me? Remember how I told you I woke up in the hospital and had no idea what year it was? Who the president was? I woke up in the hospital and I was alone. White sheets hung silent. I stared down at my body and saw only blood. I cried because I was alone and scared and lost. My mind had been emptied and I carried no history. Stripped out of time and space. They should not leave hospitals so empty. ....A year later we met again.... ....Another year-and-a-half later we would marry.... ....If it weren't for that accident you would not be here with me right now.... ....We would not have our children.... ....Phil, you're on a lot of painkillers right now.... ....I know, Lisa. I love you.... ....I love you too, Phil.... PLACE-HOLDER DAYS PART 1 What Happened Next Dateline Home February 10th, 2019 Morning After we left the emergency room I stopped paying attention to anything and the night became the morning. I'm sure lots of things happened that night. I mean, I had to get the couch set up for my convalescence, but I supposed the family took care of that while I learned to be awkward on my new crutches. It was Sunday morning when everything became real. I was beginning to understand the difference between discomfort and pain. I had been asked several times to rate my pain from 1 to 10. 10 being the sexiest pain. Sunday morning my pain was pretty damn sexy! I had not paid attention to the instructions given me regarding care. Fortunately Lisa had. That whole day was like a strange dream where I sat on the couch and people brought me things. The reality of my next couple months was beginning to set in. I would not work. I would not walk. I would be a burden on my family and friends and there was no way around that. I had no idea where money would come from but I didn't really have much control over that. Let me confide one thing to you. I am very gracious to my wife and kids regarding this predicament because I know it is a lot of work and it is easy to resent someone who can not carry their own weight. I don't want to be this burden. That being said, I REALLY like being taken care of! I mean, I really do like it! I can see why people live in hotels, or hospitals, or rehab. "You just lay back and relax. Let me take care of everything. You have enough to worry about." "OK" "Oh, and could you be a peach and get me some new tea water? This is a little cool. You're the best." ....I'd make a tremendous diva.... Surgery was scheduled for Tuesday so Sunday and Monday were just place-holder days. Nothing to do but not make anything worse. I had a 3/4 splint on my ankle and leg. I felt at every moment that I would trip and crush my foot. I could constantly feel that nothing was solid or attached. The X-ray showed I had broken both sides of my ankle. When I f**k things up I like to go Olympic level! Not much to say about the place-holder days outside of the fact that I somehow showered sitting down with my leg stuck out of the tub. If I knew before what I know now, I would at least have showered before the accident. Sure, maybe I could have stayed home that day as well but there is this strange feeling that I could never go back in time to change the incident but maybe there's a loophole in the space-time continuum for a quick rinse before fate hits. I don't know, I'm not a physicist. PART 2 More Snow Dateline Home February 11th, 2019 Evening Lisa began to fret as I lay on the couch sinking into a Hydrocodone sedation. I could easily get used to this disconnect. She is the strongest woman I know and she drives aggressively as such. But her kryptonite, if she has one, is snow! She was already worrying about getting me to my surgery the next morning and she walked into the dimming late-winter evening to brush a fresh 6 inch layer of snow off the Nissan carrying nothing but an old broom. Within minutes, neighbors began to show up with real tools and helped not only excavate the car, but shovel the walkway so I could navigate the terrain in the morning. It was, in my opiate-sedation, a classic Amish barn raising. The community came together to make a difference, and a difference was made. As Lisa returned to our home, I could tell she had not sat back and let the community do the work. She was sweaty and reddened with chill and effort. I felt guilt in my medicated comfort. I am the son of a strong, hard working man and I have always relished in my ability to take on tough tasks. ....Not today.... ....Injury is emasculating.... ....I sipped my tea.... ....I re-watched The Wire.... ....I slept, drugged and comfortable in my discomfort.... CONCLUSION DATELINE HOME MARCH 10, 2019 Today marks one month and one day since the incident. It also marks the last full day wearing my stylish green cast. I have named it Booger and Booger has been my constant companion for almost two weeks. Have you ever had one of those friends who tells the same stories over and over again? Booger does that. He likes to remind me when my foot has swollen even a tiny bit by tightening my ankle in a mummy's death grip. He likes to remind me how remote my lower leg really is from my everyday reality. But his Very favorite story, the one that I can't get out of my head is the one called The Little Itch. You can imagine how this story starts. And once it starts, there is no way to get my mind off of it. From the most humble beginnings come the greatest stories. And The Little Itch begins as almost nothing at all. I'll be setting myself up for bed, a process like all others that takes much longer than it used to. But I will get all settled in, open my book and begin to read when I feel it. Almost nothing, like I said. But like all great stories, it begins to develop. Next thing I know I have put down my book and am breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth in an attempt to meditate. It sometimes works, sometimes not. I have been told that Benedryl helps and I have tried but I am almost certain that The Little Itch is a mental construct, immune to antihistamines. For days that sensation messed with me until I just gave in! Became used to it, almost forgot about it. Almost. Tomorrow I am breaking up with Booger for good! Here's the thing. I could go on for a very long time about the last month. But I feel like I already have. I don't want to write a book about it, just document for those interested, the funny little things that life drops into our laps. I am grateful for many things. Things I was unaware of when life was simple and relatively effortless. Things like not noticing what the floor of the grocery store was made of because it was of no consequence to me. Things like not planning 5 things for the next time I got up off the couch because I could easily just get up again. But I am also grateful for things I did not notice before. Things I realize now. Like how my son and I like the same kinds of movies or how much time we really can spend together. I had been guilty of taking too much "Me Time" and not spending as much time with my family. Now, here they are and I can't get enough (though I imagine they might have had enough of me). I realize the true test of friendship is not how much time you spend together, rather, what happens when you are not able to make the commitment and it is up to them. I realize I have been guilty in the past of not making the effort to be there for friends in need. In the end, some facts are impossible to ignore. Like so many families, we do not have a savings stash for an income-reduction such as this. And that sits on my conscience as my family goes away each day for school or work. But we do have a support system and friends and family have stepped up to make sure this does not break us. I have taken this time to reflect and to be productive. I did not want to sit and wait for it to be over. I will not likely get a stretch of time like this again. After the initial pain subsided I got off the TV and started writing. Every day. Now I'm working on finishing up my first book, which is a miracle in itself. I don't know how good or bad it is but I know that, if I don't finish it, I will never start a second. So I have that going for me. Every story needs an end. I hope to carry this experience with me and keep a deep well of patience and compassion for others' troubles. I hope to park my grocery cart far enough to the side for those less agile to easily navigate. I hope to see someone in need and be there despite my comfort. I hope this is not penance for my not being a good person. You never really know what kind of person you are until compared to someone else. Sometimes, on the evening news, you will see a story about a dad who tried to enhance his daughter's birthday party by floating a stereo on an above-ground pool using a pool-noodle, twine, duct-tape and an extension cord. If it had worked it would not be on the evening news. But it was. Hopefully no one died. Inevitably, the reporter asks the parent, "Do you have any advise for other families out there?" And the answer goes something like, "Yeah, whatever you do, don't put a stereo into an above-ground pool!" Maybe we don't need advise from people who electrocuted their friends and family. I don't know, maybe we really do need their advise, but probably not. Just know that this world is 90% safe. When the other 10% comes around, search your circumstances to see if any part of it might be your fault. Maybe I could have seen this coming. Maybe not. But a lesson can be learned either way. My evening-news advise? Trying to empathize with others' troubles is excellent practice for when you become the other. Stay off the side roads. Don't put a stereo into an above ground pool. That pretty much covers it.
© 2019 Phillip W Parsons |
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Added on February 14, 2019 Last Updated on March 11, 2019 Author
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