Recently a young woman here in Monument passed away suddenly. I wasn't particularly close to her, but her passing has affected me profoundly. She was a year or two older than I am, seemingly in good health and the mother of a fifteen year old boy.
I think when we are young, single and not yet parents, the thought of dying is so esoteric, that it becomes a fleeting thought of "oh that will never happen to me." It changes drastically, or did for me, when I became a parent. Suddenly the thought of something happening, God forbid, to either Doug or me, becomes a nightmare of what that would mean for our boys. Their lives would change profoundly which becomes unthinkably painful for me.
Two days ago I felt a cold coming on. Lucy, a Monument icon, told me that I should take zicam at the first sign of a cold. So, not one to be an iconoclast, I took it. I attribute that to the fact that today I'm feeling almost normal. The cold probably would have hit me a lot harder had I not, although yesterday was hellish.
I have to admit this woman's passing hit me pretty hard, not so much because I was close to her, but more so because she and I are so close in age. That, combined with the RAVEN (not a big crow, a raven) that has been hanging out at the store every day for the last week, has really given me a strong case of hypochondria, not something I'm prone to. My cold or flu or whatever it was, transformed yesterday into a stroke or who knows what. Perhaps the fever added to that as well.
I'm hoping the raven has decided to hang out in someone else's yard.
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