Hello! I know I have been quiet this past week. Let me explain: We are in New York, in the Catskills, at our house here, and have just completed a "mini-quarantine" under New York anti-Covid guidelines for arriving travelers.
I took a moment to be alone with her: I kissed her now lifeless forehead, and paused as I thought briefly on how while her troubles were mercifully over our lives going forward would never be the same...
Given my relatively low author profile, when I think about it I am awestruck at how many of my books have been bought over the years. But this 2020 is not just any year; these are extraordinary times.
I presume if you are reading this that this letter has reached you safely.
There is ... a small ... segment of American society of a "supremacist" bent that seems forever unwilling to admit or even able to comprehend that the rest of the world is not by definition inferior or the planet Mars.
During the day I found my mind drifting to thinking about several of my family who served in uniform.
I open Twitter regularly to find brave retweets about not messin' with Texas, and Jefferson quoters telling us this is all invented. It's just a bit of flu, they declare. We all gotta die of "sumthin", they add...
We hear that so many desire real US international leadership. Going forward, let's actually try to provide some.
Aged 89, my father-in-law died unexpectedly early Monday morning (nothing to do with the stupid virus insofar as we know) at his home here in London.
We should sensibly (wherever we are in the world) wash our hands more than usual and minimize human contact, and stay home if possible - especially if we feel the slightest bit unwell, particularly because this COVID-19 virus seems to be quite fatal to those over age 75. So where better for us to spend time "self-isolating" than here on the net? :-)
I admit I have never so had the s-it scared out of me as I have felt at times since March. I did not even feel the same about my father's 2014 heart failure (from which he recovered), or even my mother's and my uncle's deaths in 2015. These have been the most unsettling weeks in my life.
My wife had to have a minor (we hope) procedure and *chose* to have it yesterday rather than a weekday. She was offered the option of the Sunday appointment and we had supposed the hospital would be quieter and so it might all be a bit less stressful. "Quieter" turned out to be, well, an understatement.
I do get it. I don't live in a "la-la land"; and I believe most other people out here actually don't.
I entitled this post "Flowers On The Edge" at the last minute because I had felt she was much like a lovely flower and always living on the cutting edge of life - determined to live well no matter what.
The holiday happiness all around me was not making me happier; it was getting on my nerves. I'm unhappy with certain other extended "family" so-called relationships as well. Other life issues are also frustrating me. It all became an angry jumble, bubbling under my surface as the day wore on. I was "overheating."