It's funny, but I only seem to write when I'm feeling like crap. Like when I was a teen and used to write poetry so dark and depressing it would've made a true blue optimist like Mother Theresa weep in despair. That said, I'm writing at this very moment and happy to report that I'm actually feeling kinda sorta good, with exception of a gnawing ache in my back. I was at my house today trying to prepare for a house guest. So, in between actually trying to get some work done, while listening to the manly grunts and groans of 3 burly men tearing up the carpeting in my bedroom--because of the fly problem--and replacing it with one not contaminated with deceased fly bodies, and trying to tidy up a home that looked like the aftermath of a cyclone disaster, I'm kind of pooped. But I just wanted to drop a note or two about Dad. He seems to be getting along quite well. He's back to eating so his weight has stabilized, he seems to be enduring the Tuesday chemo treatments-- body scan showed chemo is doing its job, and he's back to getting on everybody's nerves. My heart is much lighter than it was.
My focus is on today, not worrying about what tomorrow might bring. I'm reminding myself daily to be more positive and to thank God for this moment where everything appears to be on the mend. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!
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