Good health is relative. In January of 1986, at age 17, I lay in a hospital bed paralyzed from the neck down. As I slowly recovered from Guillain-Barre Syndrome, through observation of other patients at St. Louis Childrenâ€™s Hospital, I realized I was lucky. I spent four months of my life in the hospital, then a few more months in a wheelchair, a few more with a walker/cane, but by September I was walking on my own.
Today, I am not in as good of shape as Iâ€™d like to be. Iâ€™d like to lose about twenty pounds. But beyond being overweight, I am generally healthy, for which I am thankful.
2) Close Family
Talking with others, I know my family is unusual. We are all speaking with one another, we get along well, and thereâ€™s no one I can think of in my extended family â€“ parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins â€“ who I have to put up a false front to get along with whenever I see them. On the contrary, if asked about each of my relatives, I think I would put a check mark by each one and say that I would rather see them more often, than less often.
I have developed a lot of good friendships over the past fifteen years in the science fiction fan community, as well as through my writerâ€™s group, and at poetry open mics. At my high schoolâ€™s twentieth reunion in September I was reminded that I had for the most part lost all contact with my high school friends. There are some signs that some of those friendships could be reestablished.
Today is T-Day+1.
Count your blessings.
That’s the stuff you have or don’t have.
You count the good and can only discount the bad —
because, of the former, there is a finity,
and, of the latter, there is seemingly no end.
For instance, I am thankful I am not GW Bush.
I am thankful everyday for that,
but should I be especially on T-Day for it?
Likewise, I am glad not to be Dick Cheney, Condoleeza Rice, and so on.
I am thankful for those blessings, too, everyday.
But, I discount all that and those that I am not —
there’s just too many of these evil people in the world, past or present.
And, too, I am thankful not to be Mother Tersa or Doctor Schweitzer,
despite what ,“he says.” http://www.wisdomquotes.com/000769.html
I want to be neither a sinner nor a saint;
I must be blessed to find that I am not.
But, all such discounting is tedious, at best.
What am I means
what stuff do I have that is me?
It’s all dusty layers of my dust collection,
not even as well organized as an onion —
a strong wind will blow it all to kingdom come,
or even a Kingdom City.
So let us go on being thankful,
praising our living among kin and kindred souls,
even vicariously, like this.
Say, Hey === Turkey got you down?
— if you don’t blog, my mind’s as bleak as a blank…
— it may be that anyway, but your posts preoccupy me
— from such a possibly bitter-sweet truth.
In the meantime, I can always re-read
Shibboleth: for Paul Celan, by J Derrida —
to fix on a date of my circumcision, perhaps,
or any dating of it, antedating and predating —
an event that may not have come to an end,
coming to the same end a circumcision did,
at least the end that always remains,
when anything at all remains behind.
The donative giving of a date — dah!!!
A date comes but once JD says of PC,
as if it’s time’s a turning ever returning
to make out with our dating system.