Debra Basham

Living and Loving

Tag: COVID

  • Our Real Power

    We cannot forget that our real power is not necessarily to change the world, but to make a world of change to the people we encounter every day. ~ Cory Booker

    Last Thursday morning while I was out on a bike ride I got a call from a friend here in the park, “I have some bad news.” I knew what she was going to say. “I just tested positive for Covid.”

    We had been together for a couple of hours the prior evening at the Glenairs Jam. Linda and Larry were not there but when I told her the news she sent me the current Covid exposure guidelines from the CDC.

      After being exposed to COVID-19 START PRECAUTIONS IMMEDIATELY. Wear a mask as soon as you find out you were exposed.

      Start counting from day 1. Day 0 is the day of your last exposure to someone with COVID-19, and day 1 is the first full day after your last exposure.

      CONTINUE PRECAUTIONS 10 full day because you can still develop COVID-19 up to 10 days after you have been exposed.

      Wear a high-quality mask or respirator (e.g., N95) any time you are around others inside your home or indoors in public.

    John cancelled his pool match with Charlie on Thursday and his practice music session with John Smith on Saturday, and he stayed home from coffee. I wore a mask when Linda Allen and Princess and I went for a bike ride, and during any errands I ran. We canceled our Saturday plans for the taco-bar-birthday celebration with my sister, Janis, and our brother-in-love, Larry, the birthday boy.

    This morning I was catching up on emails and read about how rather than developing skills for drawing on our inner resources, many of us developed skills for looking outward and reacting to whatever confronted us. Earlier in the week I got twisted up with our friend who hosts the jam sessions. He and his wife obviously were not isolating. Admittedly, they were on the other side of the room the evening of our exposure, but he said he believed they were exposed so their choice for navigating is deeper than where in the room they were on Wednesday.

    I am surprised that I am quite the stickler about following the guidelines because I am generally more of a rule-breaker than a rule-follower. (Common Metaprograms from the personality preferences in SCS/NLP.) Of course, you cannot do one without simultaneously doing the other. They reside in pairs – opposite ends of a continuum, just like heads and tails on a coin.

    I am not paranoid about Covid any more. I was. But I do not want to get ill or to be sick, and even more than that, I don’t want to knowingly expose someone else. For me, it is an easy choice to experience the frustration of missing something I was looking forward to.

    After I got twisted up with our friend, I later got twisted up with our daughter, Stacey, about having gotten twisted up with our friend. Both of them used the exact same words that sent me over the edge: “It is just like flu.” Well, that is not how I see it….

    So, I read a book.

    I did a 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzle. The title of this one was “Fun Fair Foods” and I made hamburgers for our dinner that night. LOL.

    I painted the deck box that sits on the front porch the same powder blue of our barn.

    Yesterday’s project was beautiful, bright new paint and hardware on the vanity in the guest bathroom.



    The book I read was Beaches, by Iris Rainer Dart. It is about two women who met as children on a beach during a summer vacation and how they first became pen pals, then life-long friends. As the stable one in the relationship was dying of cancer (SPOILER ALERT), the drama-queen stepped up to support her friend but over-stepped by bringing the woman’s young daughter there to be with her mom against the mom’s wishes.

    Needless to say, that did not go over well, with the friend saying essentially,”You had no right. I hate you. Get out of my house, I never want to see you again as long as I live.”

    The flamboyant-bordering-on-hystrionic friend’s calm response brought me a laugh mingled with a couple of tears: “I am glad you are the crazy one for a change.”

    Grateful to report that we have both tested negative for Covid, have no symptoms, and we are approaching the ten-day mark.

    Sometimes it is better to step over an obstacle than to try to go around a difficult situation. That may be our real power….

  • Before and After

    Everything that is good in the world
    comes from love, land, and labor.

    ~ Van Jones

    My previous Yellow Brick Road posted on August 14. Today is Labor Day, September 5, 2022. This may be the longest time between posts EVER. Or perhaps it isn’t, but it has been (for sure) quite some time.

    The great room turned out, well, GREAT! It ended up not being just a low job. I painted everything except the crown molding, the trim around the door, and the beam.

    Then I painted the library alcove. The new look is so very easy on the eyes….

    On Wednesday, August 17, our Day 6, John and I both tested negative for Covid.

    On Friday, August 19, 2022, when I saw the two red lines on John’s retest, all I could say was, “Dammit… dammit… DAMMIT.”

    My Day 8, suddenly became my new Day Zero.

    Even though Linda thought it was too late to take precautions from exposure now to John, I felt I had to. It is not easy to isolate living in a tiny house, but I was clear on my intention. We both masked any time we were in the same room. We used separate dish towels, and only paper towels to dry our hands. We switched our stuff so he used the main bath and I used the guest bath. Essentially, I moved into the guest room. We ate dinner together, but he sat at the table and I used a TV tray sitting in the little rocking chair from Bozena. He always handled the remote control for the TV.

    I was negative for Covid again on Wednesday, August 24, my second Day 6. Negative again on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday – my second Day 8, 9, and 10. On Saturday, we were able to go to Norleen’s Backyard Birthday Bash, to St. John in New Buffalo on Sunday. You have to understand what a relief it was to not have to test on Monday. Woohoo!

    Coincidentally, exactly one year ago we had Covid. Exactly….

    So much has changed in the past year. On Saturday night of Labor Day weekend last year, John had the horrific anxiety, resulting in Larry Gunter’s taking him to ER on Sunday evening. The very next day, Jerry Basham had the abdominal aortic aneurysm on Labor Day. Jerry passed a few weeks later, on September 24. John had the sciatica flare all of November and December; quadruple bypass surgery in January; TIA in April; low-pressure event May 5 in the neurologist’s office. When I had the transient global amnesia in June, John was in an even worse sciatica flare. On Thursday, August 25, John got very weak and sweaty and then horribly nauseous while mowing the lawn. He was taken by ambulance to ER, and recovered well from what was likely dehydration. We have gotten through it all, and we are both doing very well!

    I had to buy more of the expensive primer because next I am going to paint the gallery wall and the furnace closet. In truth, I am going to paint all of the back hallway.

    The before and after is remarkable. TRULY remarkable….


  • A Cloudy Day

    The past few days have unfolded very differently from my plans. I had expected to share fish-fry with Linda and Larry and Linda and Fred and play Hand-and-Foot on Friday evening, and to make vegetable beef soup with my mother’s cornbread for dinner on Saturday with Janis and Larry. I planned a visit with Delcy Kuhlman on Monday morning (to see the new retreat space already sporting a bed). The bed is on loan. She says the veneer has slivered off the headboard, revealing the image of an angel. Jane Foster was scheduled to come for lunch on Wednesday.

    Each of those wonderfully wanted experiences were crossed off my calendar when we received a text from Lora at 8:21 am Friday, “Asking for your prayers. John and I have tested positive for COVID.” John and John had gone out for coffee on Thursday morning and in the evening John and I had been with John for about 40 minutes.

    Normally there are 12-20 people at the Thursday jam. When no one else showed up for the jam, we went home.

    On Wednesday the CDC updated Covid exposure protocol. Ten days of precaution: first five – isolation or being with others only with a proper medically-approved mask, even if no symptoms test on day 6, and if negative, continue to mask until day 10. Thursday was our Day Zero.

    Day 1, Friday, August 12, 2022:
    Well before noon, I was painting paneling in the great room.


    Perhaps the job was begun a bit too impulsively since I was using only the paint left over from the previous kitchen cabinet project, without any primer. That paneling was soaking up paint like a lawn after a six-week drought when the rains come…

    I had the wherewithal to stop.

    Friday evening, after a conference call with Larry Britton, I knew I needed to put on gloves and a mask, and make a trip to Sherwin Williams before continuing. I needed supplies.

    I’ve begun reading The Rent Collector, by Camron Wright, in which the main character, Sang Ly, learns to read with the hope of creating a way out of their current living conditions: they live in and survive by picking through garbage in Cambodia’s largest municipal dump.

    Day 2, Saturday, August 13, 2022:
    Saturday morning at 8 o’clock I called Sherwin Williams to say I did not have Covid, but would be coming into the store in gloves and a mask because I had been exposed. “Laney” said that was okay. She did keep her distance, and as she carried the two gallons to my car she told me in two weeks she was going on her first vacation in two years. I told her I understood completely and that was why I could not come in without calling first.

    The name of paint color is Cultured Pearl. According to Wikipedia, cultured pearls are formed within a cultured pearl sac with human intervention in the interior of productive living molluscs in a variety of conditions depending upon the mollusc and the goals.[1] Just as the same as natural pearls, cultured pearls can be cultivated in seawater or freshwater bodies. Nowadays, over 95% of the pearls available on the market would be cultured pearls.

    By dinner time, two walls were painted and everything in the area cleaned and furniture put properly placed!

    Day 3, Sunday, August 14, 2022:

    “That is a wonderful lesson, Sang Ly. Remember it.”

    “What was it again?” I ask, not certain to what she is referring.

    She repeats it for me. “In literature, everything means something.”

    We open the pages and read.

    ~ The Rent Collector, by Camron Wright

    It is cloudy today. My knees and hips are sore from all of the squatting. This is a low job…. I am not sure if I will take the day off or persevere.

    I had anticipated Friday, August 12, 2022. Sixty years earlier, when I was twelve years old, my dad and I were in a serious auto accident — an accident in which I had an out-of-body near death experience (NDE) that has shaped my view of the world. I had expected to write, to ride my bike, to give space to be on a very inner journey. I certainly had not anticipated painting paneling.

    A poem gives rise on the page in my journal.

      A Cloudy Day

      Daily light replaces darkness
      and light begats light
      Where nothing reflected
      now everything does

      Oh, for sure
      you can see perfections
      formerly hidden
      now quite obvious
      but soooooo worth it

      Seeing all in the light
      even the flaws
      are lovely
      each adds an element
      of uniqueness, telling a tale

      Today the sun is hidden
      clouds rule the sky
      But still the sun shines
      and the light is, only
      waiting to reveal its gloriousness

      The sun still shines
      even on a cloudy day

      ~ Debra Basham, August 14, 2022

    P.S. Word came last evening from Gary Zukav, author of The Seat of the Soul, that his beloved, Linda Francis, transitioned on August 6. Linda Beushausen Gunter and I had the honor of spending a day with them some years back. Please keep them in your thoughts and prayers.

      My Dear Spiritual Partner,

      Linda Francis, my Beloved, my spiritual partner, my life partner, my co-creator in everything, my co-author, my inspiration and model, completed her journey through the Earth school on August 6. Her soul returned home to nonphysical reality. When a soul decides to return home, nothing can stop it. I saw this happen before my eyes. Linda was at my side in our kitchen when the stroke came. Within hours an experienced surgeon had attempted three times to remove the clot in her brain, yet it could not be removed.

      I am still reeling. Each time I turn to say something to Linda and realize that she is not here to answer me, and each time I rush home with groceries to be with her again and remember that she will not be there when I arrive, and countless experiences like these are each a source of great pain for me and also an opportunity to create authentic power. Each hurts a lot before I recognize it for what it is – a frightened part of my personality – and move my attention away from “what ifs” and “if onlys” to what is actually happening in the moment, and toward an opportunity to love, to support, to contribute.

      This is not over for me, and it is probably not over for you. I and our precious support team will send you some practical thoughts and suggestions over the next few weeks so you can practice transforming your experiences into opportunities to create authentic power. You will receive your first emails next week. I invite you to experiment with them and to let me know at garyzukav@seatofthesoul.com what happens.

      I hope you are healthy and joyful and appreciating the power and beauty of each moment.

      Linda joins me in sending you love.

      Love,
      Gary

  • Whether Or Not It Is Clear To You

    Today is Monday, January 24, 2022. I wrote in my journal:

    Dear Holy Spirit,

    Three weeks ago today, on January 3, 2022, John had CABAG (open-heart, quadruple by-pass surgery).

    That feels otherworldly.

    We continue to be gobsmacked by the OBVIOUS perfection of the unfolding of all of this.

    For example, his first morning having had an episode of pain in his chest lying down happened Tuesday, December 28, 2021 — the day Linda and Larry arrived across the street from us here on Pine Island. John felt OK, and went on to shuffleboard. Sciatica pain prevented him from helping unload their van. We went out for shrimp that night, with Linda and Larry and Nancy.

    That night John had a second episode, and Wednesday about noon I took him to convenient care; then on to the ER at Cape Coral Hospital. From there he was transferred by ambulance to HealthPark.

    And the rest, you know, is his story….

    Oh, that Stacey has a job that would allow her to come be with us.

    Oh, how we were protected from exposure to the Covid Omicron variant because Larry’s onset of symptoms occurred just before John was discharged from the hospital. Otherwise, we know we would have all been together.

    Oh, that the home health nurse assigned to us had car trouble and could not get here on Saturday, which resulted in our having met our Magical Maggie!

    Within the days (daze), there are so many more points of proof, but you get the gist of it.

    This week will be very busy:
    Tuesday, January 25, 2022 — post surgical visit with Dr. Cervantes
    Wednesday, January 26, 2022 — last home health visit with Maggie
    Thursday, January 27, 2022 — cardiac rehab orientation
    Friday, January 28, 2022 — post in-patient visit

    Whew!

    Daoism, sometimes spelled Taoism, comes from Ancient China. The concept of Wu Wei (going with the flow) teaches us that rather than fighting against the conditions in our lives, we can allow things to take their natural course.

    I love the musical version of Desiderata. Desiderata is a 1971 album by Les Crane with music by Broadway composer Fred Werner and concept and various lyrics by David C. Wilson. It is a spoken word album with sung refrains and instrumental accompaniment. This section speaks to Wu Wei:

      And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.

    Through it all, we are so very grateful this happened when and where it did. Time and place were, and are, divinely guided.

    Perhaps, maybe likely; likely, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should —— it always is. Amen.

  • How to Change our Past

    Perhaps it is busy mind preparing for our seasonal move south, or maybe the Beaver Moon (named for the November moon because of how the beavers prepare for winter), but I am wide awake and have fingers on the keyboard. While darkness drapes the sky, I am listening to an amazing Lion’s Roar interview with Kaira Jewel Lingo, a former nun living at Plum Village with Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh.

    The official title of the interview is “Facing the Unknown.”

    We Were Made for These Times: Ten Lessons on Moving Through Change, Loss, and Disruptions, is the title of the book by Kaira Jewel Lingo.

    So many nuggets….

    Living every moment of mindfulness as a moment that changes our past.

    “Begin Anew” practice of reflecting at the start of each week what you appreciated in the previous week about your partner/friend/coworker. One memory bring up another memory….

    Sharing about inmates in Africa in 2007 becoming concerned for their fellow inmates who were hospitalized with HIV. The inmates requested and received permission to grow a garden — food to provide additional nourishment for those who were ill. That generated awareness also of orphans whose parents had died from AIDS. An “adopt-an-orphan” program led to their acquiring a sewing machine and using their own clothing to repurpose into garments for the orphaned children.

    Preparing for our seasonal move might give greater significance to this idea of preparing for the ways we are going to have to adapt. Or maybe that comes with advancing age. This week John is learning a new version of the song “Jesus Loves Me.” The first line is: Jesus loves me, this I know, though my hair is white as snow.”

    People have asked me if I like my new short hair.

    It touches my heart that my Covid-Created long hair has been donated to a child through Wigs for Kids.





    How do we prepare? How do we be ready?

    Kaira spoke of the English WWI soldier who had an idea for the entire nation to spend one minute in silence. At nine pm each day, Big Ben would ring, reminding the people to do this. Twenty-one years later, following WWII, the Nazi’s said they could not take over England because, “You had this secret weapon.”

    I am making a list of user-name and passwords for all of our online stuff. At some point, someone is going to need that. Preparing for the ways we are going to have to adapt.

    I have been organizing meals based on what we have in the freezer and pantry. Preparing for the ways we are going to have to adapt.

    When I think of something that I want to remember to take, I get it out now. Preparing for the ways we are going to have to adapt.

    While not everyone is making a seasonal move, the whole world might benefit by preparing for the ways we are going to have to adapt. That truly is how to change our past!

  • Blessings “Raining” Down

    John and I rallied from Covid sufficiently to make the trip to Tennessee for our granddaughter’s wedding. There are sooooooo many significant points about this wedding.

    Courtney’s brother, Brad, was on emergency stand-by to officiate if John and/or I were not recovered sufficiently to make the trip. He had just officiated at the wedding of a good friend. But Brad told me how relieved he was to not have to do it! And he said this was his favorite line in the ceremony:

    We have gathered here, not to create a union, for that union already exists. The soul’s commitment to marry another happens long before the legal wedding day and in truth we have been invited here to witness the love already affirmed between Courtney and Josh…

    That love had already created our great-grandson, 8 month old Jackson, who was brought to the altar by Gampie (John) in a little red wagon with a sign on the back announcing proudly, “Here comes the love of your life!”

    These two are absolutely adorable!

    Here we are recessing with Jackson.



    A friend (who has been very concerned about John and me) wondered aloud if it would be more considerate to postpone the wedding, given the current surge in cases. In truth, Courtney did postpone her wedding because I have been absolutely terrified of Covid.

    Courtney and Josh were willing to wait 18 months to get married so that I would officiate their ceremony.

    This is the oddest part….

    I am not sure I could have officiated if John and I had not just recovered from Covid.

    You see, all along it has been my heart’s desire to neither get nor give the coronavirus.

    Because those risks were removed for me, I was able to be fully present with Courtney and Josh on their wedding day.

    It was a beautiful venue, and she wanted the ceremony to be outdoors, but the skies opened up and it rained all afternoon!

    As an interfaith minister, I learned that rain on your wedding day is said to be blessings “raining” down from great spirit.

    I also found this online: Rain on your wedding day is considered good luck because it signifies that your marriage will last. As you know, a knot that becomes wet is extremely hard to untie – therefore, when you “tie the knot” on a rainy day, your marriage is supposedly just as hard to unravel!

    It is my pleasure to present to you for the first time, my granddaughter, and her husband: Courtney and Josh Yarber!

  • The Time That is Given Us

    Three weeks ago today John and I were babysitting with Jackson, our 8-month-old great-grandson, while his mom worked (from G-Ma’s house).

    That evening we got to see the barn on the property at Bradyville. Soooooo happy for Brad and Christina!

    Three weeks feels like a lifetime.

    John received the Monoclonal Antibody Therapy (mAb) infusion on Friday, September 3. That went well.

    Two days after the infusion, I discovered John had spent the night in anxiety. He was still in a state of sheer panic that morning. We did everything we could think of to shift his state: EFT, tapping; Self-Havening; icy-gel mask, sucking on a lozenge; acupressure. Nothing really alleviated the shortness of breath, panic-feeling.

    John was exhausted. He could not sleep, unable even to lie down.

    By early evening, I reached out to my Dharma Sister, Doctor friend and she and her husband (also a physician) concurred that his symptoms were impossible to evaluate without labs, a chest x-ray, and an EKG. It was a holiday weekend. No office hours until Tuesday. Their suggestion was to get him to ER immediately.

    I said, “OK. I will take him.”

    “No!!! YOU cannot take him. It is not safe for you or for the others for you to be in a waiting room,” she text-shouted at me.

    I called Linda and said, “I need you or Larry to take John to ER.”

    Within minutes, Larry had John in the vehicle headed to the hospital.

    Words do not describe the waiting. And the worry…. Thankfully, Larry kept Linda updated, and Linda kept me updated.

    My sister, Janis, and my brother-in-love, Larry, drove over and sat in their car in my driveway while I sat on the front porch, both of us masked, just so I did not have to wait alone. When the mosquitos began to bite, they headed home. By that time, information began to be posted on John’s electronic chart.

    Linda and I were seeing the test results, real time, and what we were seeing was very encouraging.

    The infusion (mAb) can cause heart palpitations. We will never know for sure if that is what triggered the anxiety, but John really suffered with it.

    The following afternoon, we got an even bigger shock. John’s sister-in-love, Jeanne, had found his brother, Jerry, on the floor in severe pain when she returned from the store. Jerry was being taken to the hospital!!!!

    News was slow to come in.

    We learned that Jerry had suffered an abdominal aortic aneurysm.

    Jerry was going in for a 6-hour surgery!!!

    We later found out that most people would not have lived to get into surgery, much less survived the procedure. The next 72 hours would tell the story.

    We were grateful Jerry had been able to speak with Jeanne, their daughter, Lisa, and Lisa’s husband, Terry. He assured them he was not afraid. Jerry told them if he did not make it he would wake up and see their son Scott, (who passed 14 years ago). If he made it, he would wake up and see them. “Either way, I will be happy,” what a gift his words were to them.

    The Covid-related anxiety already wrenching within his body coupled with the immense shock and grief and uncertainty about his brother, was a perfect storm….John was inconsolable during this time.

    The next day when we had a telehealth follow-up from the ER visit, the doctor suggested a short-term use of Valium to help John get some rest and begin to recover. That was such a blessing….

    As my stress level went up through this, I also had set-back after set-back. My temperature would spike. My breathing was short. I was weak. Neither of us were resting, and both of us were worried about ourselves, about Jerry, and also wondering, “Will we be able to get to Tennessee for Courtney’s wedding?” I am scheduled to officiate that wedding on Saturday!

    But gifts come with every adversity.

    On Sunday morning, while John was debilitated with the anxiety, he would cry and tell me over-and-over how sorry he was that he had never understood what I had to live with. He said he understood now why I was so stringent on mask-wearing and social-distancing. He can now clearly see why I did not want to get or give Covid.

    As Larry sat at ER with John, I worried about both of them. And Linda…. and anyone else should Larry get exposure from John or from someone else at the ER.

    Worry has been a life-long companion.

    I had a long conversation with a friend this morning. She has hated watching me go through this. She admitted to me that she has been mad at my daughter and granddaughter, holding them responsible for my getting Covid and suffering. I reminded her that resentment is like eating rat poison expecting the rat to die.

    Maybe it would be smart for every home to have a home antigen test on hand. Maybe it would be kind to recognize that each person I am with unmasked is being exposed to every person I have been with unmasked, and every person each of those persons have been with unmasked.

    We are going to Tennessee for our granddaughter’s wedding. Do I wish they would require masks? Yes. Am I concerned about those attending who are not vaccinated? Yes.

    “I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo.

    “So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

    ~ J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

    On Sunday, I shared with a small congregation. John and myself, plus 11 others. We were not masked. Sitting in a circle for an hour.

    Was that smart? Was it kind?

    I wonder about that.

    You see, I was born into anxiety. I experienced womb trauma when my mom simultaneously discovered she was pregnant with me and had syphilis. My mom’s emotions of shame, anger, humiliation and concern about the treatment affecting me were my emotional blueprint for life. Diagnosed with and hospitalization for polio when I was five-years-old, I was placed in isolation, unable to even have my mom touch me. She came and stood on the other side of the glass. Tears streaming down my face, spindly little legs, scrawny little arms. I had never been away from my mom even one day of my life prior to that. It was very traumatic….

    I know how trauma leads to amygdala hijacking. Fortunately, I have found ways to mitigate a compromised central nervous system. That, essentially, has become my life’s work.

    All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.

  • Covid – Day 8/9

    John will receive Monoclonal Antibody Therapy today.

    Stacey recovered sufficiently to drive 2 and 1/2 hours from Smyrna to Cleveland, Tennessee, to be a support for our granddaughter, Courtney, after she and our great-grandson, Jackson, also tested positive for Covid.

    Four-generations navigating Covid…. not a claim-to-fame I would have chosen.

    At this time the symptoms are less difficult than the energy-leeching vigilance if something is taking a turn for the worse. At day 8-9…. not yet able to go without Tylenol. Overall, I feel less “well” the past two days than I had the previous. That wakens the Nervous Nelly within. Counter-productive to recovery. Perhaps, though, I do feel a smidgen less “unwell” today than yesterday.

    John and I were able to do a very tentative yoga session here in the great room yesterday.

    And later in the afternoon we walked out back to discover dozens of Monarchs flitting in the field. It is nothing short of a miracle that many of them will make it to Mexico.

    Much to be grateful for….

  • Nothing Left to Forgive – COVID

    Jesus came to teach many things, but forgiveness is chief among them.

    And yet with compassion there is nothing left to forgive.

    Forgiveness is only needed when there is something held against another, some kind of blame.

    When you see deeply into another, that judgment falls away and there is nothing left to forgive.

    ~ Aaron

    John and I are back from taking our PCR (polymerase chain reaction) test checking for Covid. The results should be back in about 20 hours, but the roller-coaster of symptoms leave very little doubt.

    On Wednesday, as we were traveling back from a fantastic visit with Stacey and her family in Tennessee, she sent word that she had a headache and was suspicious. We had plans for dinner with friends, Linda and Larry, so she would test before that. She had a positive home antigen test.

    John and I went into self-quarantine, and in about 24 hours, I began to have symptoms. John was about a day behind me.

    Deepest gratitude for EVERYTHING Linda and Larry have been doing to support our recovery, often anticipating our needs before or while we were not even able to articulate them.

    I bow down to each and EVERYONE who prayed, sent distant healing, held energy for our recovery. And kudos to my Dharma Sister, Doctor friend, and her endless text support. I told her I need to put her on retainer….

    After 12 hours of violent vomiting, during which I was unable to tolerate even water — and an UNRELENTING excruciating headache — a welcome whiff of relief came. I have never tasted anything more wonderful than the first sips of 7-Up that stayed down. I am still running a low-grade temperature, with mostly respiratory stuff now, like a bad summer cold. John reports feeling weak, tired, and we both have a very diminished appetite. And a diminished sense of smell.

    But today I put on my apron and made breakfast sausage for John. And I did a load of laundry.

    Such a tender heart for our daughter Stacey.

    She has had such a difficult time with our hyper vigilance, and then for our exposure and contracting Covid to be a result of our visit with her. The compassion has spawned MANY tears as she and I FaceTime during our mutual quarantine, checking up on one another.

    This morning I wrote in my journal: “This isn’t so bad if not for the need to be constantly vigilant that things may have taken a turn for the worse. I finally feel the need to write about all of this.”

    I assured Stacey I take full responsibility for having put myself at risk. Her, “I am so sorry…” led us both to the profound compassion Jesus taught that there is nothing left to forgive.

    This is the odd part.

    When we went to grandson, Brad’s, band concert, John and I stayed double masked. His band rocked the house, and we wore our Apache Jericho shirts proudly!


    Later that evening, it was such joy to watch our granddaughter, Courtney, and her Bride’s Tribe head out for an evening of country line dancing.

    It never entered my mind to consider lateral risk.

    I am sooooooooo grateful to Stacey for being vigilant and protecting Linda and Larry (and any others) from exposure through John and me.

    We were treated with such kindness today by the young woman who took our nasal swab. We went in together, sat in the same wide chair, and she called it a strange kind of date. She was so gentle with me, much more than I had been with myself when I administered the home antigen test.

    Compassion wells up in my heart and makes my eyes leak.

    Words cannot begin to express how thankful I am that Stacey had chosen to get the Johnson & Johnson vaccine for me while she was here in Michigan the first week of August. In fact, she received that shot 3 weeks to-the-day of her testing positive!

    As we are all still recovering, we are recognizing so many gifts in this, and that is likely to continue for some time.

    In addition to donating my “Covid-Created” long hair to Wigs For Kids at some point, Stacey mentioned donating convalescent plasma.

    Sounds like a very good way of making lemonade out of lemons….


  • I Know She is With Me Now – White Butterfly

    Sacred Stories

    They attended an amazing celebration of life for one of his school friends.

    The woman had died of cancer in February 2020 while hospital visits were curtailed by Covid and her wishes were that her family celebrate with a fish fry when possible.

    She must have been a truly lovely woman, inside and out. There were over 60 attending and this was the second celebration!

    Her family gave beautiful tributes to her and her daughter concluded with this story:

    “As Mom was preparing to leave, I begged her to come and be with me from the other side. We agreed she would come as a white butterfly so I would know for sure. For a long time I watched for her and prayed for her to comfort me, but no butterfly. Then last month I spotted one in my kitchen. I asked it to let me know for sure it was her. It came and fluttered up and down one arm and then the other. Then she came close to my face and just fluttered there! She flew to a bouquet I had on the table and I ran to get my phone for a picture but she was gone when I returned. I know she’s with me now”.