Good Morning…

How are you?

I am ok, relatively ok, sort of a fine ok. So so. But mostly I am neither ok nor so so. I am actually somewhat grey.

Photo by Digital Echo Photography

Not actively ill nor yet exuberantly well, either. Just, well, grey.

My joints are owly, my thoughts are drab. I have not the solace of a muted silvery grey, nor the excitement of peppery overtones. The soft pewter of my brain has morphed into the stark granite of lessor thoughts.

In my experience I have choices to deal with The Dinges. I can curl up in a favorite chair with a good book and an apple to munch on and ignore the iron of my day. Or I can let the sere impulses wash over me, engulf me, and then slither out the door,  down the lawn to drain away in the civic cellar…

In my family we refer to such blah and dusky moments as ‘having a bumpy pig’ day.

Bumpy pigs are not all that common – rare even. I have actually never laid eyes on a bumpy pig.

Wrinkled, yes, but not bumpy.

Two years ago I was in a van careening through an Arizona monsoon on my way to the hospital where my beloved was taking his last breaths. The rain filled the washes and potholes and I was at the mercy of my driver – he was cool and confident. I was not. I tried desperately to text my family that I was en route but spell check and a bouncy ride made for some astonishing entries. The least of which was ‘bumpy pig’. Thinking it was an apt description of a dismal trek I allowed my smart phone to have its own way. My watchful group hovering around their father thought I had lost my mind…

And to this day when any of us confess to having even a slightly bumpy pig day we all sigh collectively with complete understanding. There isn’t much worse in life. And we all get to experience our own bumpy pig days dealing with them as ever the best we can. Sometimes successfully, other times not so much.

The bumpy pig days are part of our legacy. The ashes to our heather. The dapple to our stone. The somber to our pearls and clouds. Always there but never overcoming our lives.

The bumpy pig days also do pass. It is the smiles and warmth of connections with family and friends and sometimes even well placed strangers that carries us through the grey and into the bright sunshine of the future. Hope is in the faces of the generations to come.

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