Aneurysms and the echo
I used to write more about my gigantic aneurysm. I just reread some of what I wrote years ago. What I am realizing is that it is just as much a part of my day as it was when I found out I needed to have heart surgery. The difference is that it has become normal. Yesterday, I was crossing the border back into the US when I was asked about my prescriptions. My travel companion joked with immigration, "oh, those are for Grandpa and his heart." We laughed. Yet, every morning I hold 6 pills in my hand. I know that without these I would probably die within a year. This has become my morning ritual. Each morning confronting my mortality, holding it in my hand, knowing how frail I am and then going into the world. Heart surgery has helped me become a better father. I remembered while my wife was pregnant driving home one day, bitter and grumpy. I looked out the window and saw a patch of earth filled with weeds and flowers in the middle of the city. I smiled. A simple smile. A whole body smile. I wanted to find the awe in life again before my daughter was born. I have found the awe in life. I continue to find the awe in life. It starts with 6 pills every morning.
1 comment:
I actually did a very long comment about Tony H's poem of the tennis match that stirred up racism, but I understand the author appreciates the realness of Williams and is partially envious that his life has been a series of polite etiquette driven by people around him that are so self absorbed and diluted they wouldn't even care if they did realize it because they would have no sense of identity without all that high class grooming. Brilliant poem, or maybe I just think so because somehow it just speaks to me, clearly it didn't to most. I wonder if anyone else figured out who that Beautuful, timid white girl was, perhaps the same "tribe" as my lost friend staring at the screen. I see here you are now a more grateful of your enslavement, good for you. I must say it is perplexing that you love and 6 pills are all you have, the truth is that they have you. The lights are shiny and feeling of luxury will keep a woman's delight but from a man that mufh like you I come to bear the sorrow of truth: The things own end up owning you.
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