Being Wise Thirty-Two September 12, 2021
I keep falling asleep when I’m
trying to work, or not sleeping
when I want to. So I keep midnight
hours and make more typos. It’s
my brain refusing me the competence
I’ve always had until now. My
helpers hold my hand tight, carry
heavy things for me. My students
still want me to teach them. I tell them
if I make a mistake, tell me. My mind
is less under my control. It has its
own agenda, its own time-table, its own
rebellions. The creeping green leaves
curled around my computer, live, but
there are dead leaves, too, when they
lose the sun. We all need sun and
patience, not to mention persistence.
Keep reading even if I do fall asleep.
People love you, even your doctor,
who worries. She knows too much,
and it scares her. Too many youngsters
are sick with this Covid. But she worries
over an eighty-four-year old woman,
and my favorite physical therapist
praises me and eggs me on. She sees
through me and believes in my mastery
of walking. I practice “left foot, heel
first.”The cane comes down when
the left heel does. I still have a ways
to go. Hang on.
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