WHAT’S BEEN HAPPENING WITH ME?

Not a New Year’s Resolution

My only resolution today is to write this, a tale of death and life.

Old Ginger by the author.

Earlier this morning there was a knock at the backdoor. Did the universe know I’d be writing this this morning?

It was my next door neighbour. Old Ginger had been hit by a car and was lying dead on the front lawn.

Ginge’ wasn’t my cat. He belonged to another neighbour, who was just jumping into a car to drive off.

“Don’t tell the kids. They’ll be upset. I’ll tell them later.”

“Would you like me to bury him in the backyard?”

“Thanks. I’d appreciate it.”

Which I did. I said a few words, laid a palm frond on the grave and headed back to my desk.

Damn, I got a splinter from the shovel.

Truth be told, the last nine months have been rough.

After twelve years in my current job, a fog of stress and exhaustion had permeated my soul. For the past five years, my aging in-laws, who had separated long ago, were needing almost constant care. If any of that needed a further degree of difficulty, throw in COVID.