Random thoughts, late December edition

I have always been somewhat reclusive by nature, preferring to avoid crowds or other gatherings that require me to pretend that I am happy to be there.

Therefore, I am somewhat befuddled that I am upset that I am unable to visit a couple of uncles this holiday season. I want to have some of Aunt Diane’s chocolate pie and then drive up to Virginia, sit on my Uncle Paul’s porch and watch the sun go down while slowly nursing a glass of Seagrams, listening to Paul expound on how good life has been to him. Those options are simply out of the picture this year, and Paul in particular is not getting any younger.

All these years, I thought I was the Grinch Incarnate, and now I come to find out that I am just an old mushy sentimentalist. If only Dr Suess were still alive to write that story.

Grinch is not pleased

I am left to wonder if I will ever see these people again. My Uncle David (Diane’s husband) is extremely protective of her, as she has had respiratory issues virtually her entire life. None of us doubt that a brush the Chinese Communist War Virus of 2019 would do her in very quickly. David won’t let his own kids in the house, all visits are held outdoors on a spacious porch, masks are non-optional. I do not disagree with his course of action.

Uncle Paul is now in the back half of his 80s and has gone into Atrial fibrillation more than once since Thanksgiving. Paul has a better support system than most of us: his oldest daughter is a hard-nosed, no-nonsense retired ER nurse (God, I love her dearly), his youngest daughter is a practicing MD. They are watching their dad and neither is shy about getting involved with his immediate care if they even get a hint of a feeling of a notion that something isn’t right. His current situation places him pretty much off limits to spending some time on that porch.

I want, badly, to spend a bit of time with all of them, and it won’t happen soon, and it’s a toss up if it will ever happen. I count these vaccines that magically appeared overnight as too good to be true, and when something is too good to be true…

Anyway, Christmas 2020 sucks.


Woe is me. Everyone hates me.

Leave a Reply