I’ve been struggling the past week to write.
There’s been a lot going on. Today is my mother’s birthday – the first since she died.
My father was recently diagnosed with leukemia, although at his age, it’s kind of a wheel of misfortune. Something was bound to come up.
I had a referral to yet one more specialist, and I’ll be undergoing yet another procedure on Monday.
All this is distracting.
However, I’m neither complaining nor asking for sympathy.
I love my family and any time I get to spend with them. I love my job and the people with whom I work. I enjoy music and being able to play a little. I can go upstairs to my office and turn on the ham radio and talk to people all over the world.
I am working on a thrift store telescope because I love the skies.
My dog thinks I’m the greatest thing in the world. My parrot thinks I’m his entire flock.
Best of all, my wife is my best friend, and everything I’ve ever dreamed of.
I’m blessed with everything anyone could want.
However, recent events have prevented me from writing any brilliant insights, major philosophical revelations or earth-shattering thoughts.
But, then again, I’ve never done that before.