Disconnected

         At the end of last month/start of this month, Richard’s only living sister said she had been wanting to go to South Carolina to see their mom.  Richard has too and thought that perhaps they could go together – or else at least meet up.  His sister Jean feels somewhat in the dark because of a feud that has taken place between her and the youngest brother – who has taken it upon himself to become mom’s caretaker – although I think more responsibility has fallen upon his wife.  I don’t know if it’s something she has dealt with before, but Richard’s sister does not understand.  She believes that the youngest brother and his wife are preventing phone calls and supervision.  What a mess.  It doesn’t sound to me as if Jean has ever dealt with dementia.  That’s where there mom is at.

        Last week Richard heard from Jean’s husband. They were in the process of traveling to North Carolina where Al has a relative who had been given two weeks to live.  They figured they would go and see their mom on the same trip as North Carolina and South Carolina are not that far apart.  It was a random decision on Richard’s part, but he decided he would go and join them right then.  Thus we picked up Jai from school last week and headed to the airport to drop off Roland who may be returning home today but may not return until tomorrow. We don’t know.

        Thus Jaime and I have had a reign on the house without Richard’s presence.  No cowboys or Sci-Fi.  Hardly any TV at all (I did watch a few recordings when I had been alert enough to do so) ironically Richard and I have both had colds or allergies or perhaps even COVID – though I don’t know how I would have contracted the latter.

        We’ve both been taking medicines – though I think I have taken more.  I have definitely slept more.  I’ve had tea with honey and am frankly tired of all the liquids that I’ve been sending through myself.  They all come out.  Usually whenever I cough.  I’d rather be asleep.

        I debated on whether to even go to Church on Sunday.  I wish I hadn’t gone.  I wore a mask.  I got so little out of the services.  I got even less out of the training meeting that I needed to attend.  I’ll probably mask up for the meeting that may or may not be held at 4:00 this evening.  Thus far I am feeling better.  I don’t remember ever having recouped this quickly from whatever – but I also have never been so doped up with over-the-counter and home remedies every four hours.

        I’m in a fog as I type this.  My head seems disconnected to the rest of my body.  I don’t even know if any of it makes sense or not.  I guess I can delete it once I have it figured out.

What’s the Point?

         There is still a mask war and I suppose will be for as long as necessary.  Missionaries are required to wear masks while in public.  It is an inspired requirement.  Our ward mission leader is against wearing a mask – which puzzles me for a couple of reasons – well maybe more than a couple, but I will mention only two.

          His son married the daughter of his next door neighbor who is avid about wearing masks and keeping social distances as her husband’s health is failing and has been for some time. They share the same grandchildren and yet seem insensitive to the restrictions that his in-laws would like to enforce. I’m not saying that he is insensitive.  I, of course, don’t have all of the facts.  I’m just saying that the action seems insensitive.

          Who are we to not honor a requirement that the missionaries themselves have been given due to revelation?  The face covering is not solely for them but for those they serve.  They are not sending out droplets of their saliva each time they speak.  Some people don’t understand that.  Droplets spew out of each person’s mouth differently.  Some may have more juices than others.

          Take my dad for instance.  Toward the end of his life whenever he would sneeze we would ask, “Do you pass out towels with that sneeze?” which would make him laugh and then he would drool even more.  I suspect if my dad were wearing a mask today that it would be wet with saliva.      

          Have you ever seen Hamilton?  Recently I commented on one of Corey’s posts that Jonathan Groff as King George could be the poster boy of why we should wear a mask.  You can read about his spit spewing character here. 

          Sorry I got off track.  It was my first meeting with the missionaries and committee in this ward.  There were eight of us.  Only the ward missionary rep was not wearing a mask.  The other seven of us were.  Our situation of mask wearing and not particularly social distance was almost comical.  One sister kept removing her mask in order to speak.  Not the point of wearing the mask – nor does it seem proper to stand so close to the missionaries in order to read their tags.  I could seriously hear her spittle.  We met outside and the wind was blowing enough to carry it to each of us.  She shared a good thought.  My expression may have read otherwise – if any of them could even see my expression.

          My mouth and nose were covered  by the mask.  I believe my glasses had darkened (hopefully early in the meeting) and so I don’t believe anyone saw my eyes either.  The elder who had the most to say was wearing a bandana which slipped off his nose with each word he would say.  He appeared to be even less thrilled about being there than I was.

          Truth is I really wasn’t feeling well.  My stomach had started doing flip-flops an hour before the meeting started. I’m still not altogether there. 

from QDMA

           While at the meeting today, I saw a doe leading her two fawns through the bushes.  I had also seen three fawn this morning.  None of them were wearing masks. Seeing the deer has been the highlight of my day thus far.  Conquering this sour stomach will also be nice.