THE VOICE AFTER THE WHIRLWIND 7-6-17

Don’t worry about me. I don’t have a cold right now. I wrote this several months ago…

THE VOICE AFTER THE WHIRLWIND   7-6-17

For the past week, I have received the benefits of a cold. Precisely because it is a “bad” cold, it is a good cold.

Good health is not always my friend. When I feel good, when the energy is high, the sap is running… and running… and running…

I get things done. I make lists. I mark things off lists. I make more lists. I get into overdrive and I stay there. 

Granted, the lists are shorter than when I was thirty. Overdrive speed is slower than when I was fifty. When John Wayne was in his seventies, he married a woman in her thirties. In an interview he mentioned limitations that he expected because of his age. In the process, he said, “Now if I were a young man of forty…” I hoo-hawed. I was forty at the time. I did not feel young. Now, though, I know what he meant.

Still, though, it is as easy for a person of sixty or eighty to get lost in a forest of stuff as it is for a person of thirty or fifty. The forest may be smaller, but my steps are shorter and slower, so it evens out.

The cold has slowed me down. Food does not taste good, so I don’t spend much time eating. I’m tired all the time, so I spend a lot of time resting. My head hurts and my eyes are running, so reading is too big a challenge, and TV is too big a bore. So I sit in my chair and I think…

…about Helen, my wife–how pretty she looked when we first met fifty years ago, and how pretty she looks now. About Mary Beth and Katie, my daughters, how sweet they were when they were little, and how sweet they are now. About Brigid, my granddaughter, and Joseph, my grandson, and how the very thought of them makes my heart glad. I think of relatives and friends whom I have loved and lost a while. I think of places that have eased my soul–Asissi, Spring Mill, East Bay, St. Andrews…

My head and my eyes and my nose still hurt. I get nothing done. But the world is no worse off. In fact, the world may be a better place without all my frantic activity. My soul is at ease.

It is difficult to hear the still small voice until the whirlwind has passed, but it is there.

JRMcF

johnrobertmcfarland@gmail.com