Category Archives: Fourth Phase

Commentary on Religion, Dogs, Fourth Phase, Judaism

The Shadow Knows

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Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Shadow, the Night Dog. Cool night. Being a doggie Dad. Tarrific Trump, the unpredictable. China. My son, near to China. Seoah and Murdoch. Leo. Annie and Luna. The Jangs come to America. Ruth. Gabe. My &#$! back.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Religion

Week Kavannah: Wu Wei

One brief shining: She ran from the door into the night, once again inside shy after dark, staying mysterious, a Shadow on my late evening, coming in suddenly, behind my back, there under the bed in the morning though I thought she was outside.

 

Dog journal: My Shadow. A conundrum. Loving, playful. Dr. Shadow. Timid, threshold shy traumatized Shadow. Exuberant. Fearful. Difficult to train. Happy to train. A deeper wound than I thought. As Kate would say, tincture of time.

We spent time, Amy and me, with Shadow on the leash outside. Shadow led; then, I led a bit. Amy noticed, I did not, that Shadow panted part of the time. A sign of stress she said. Means we need to go slow with training, with the leash.

I trust Amy. She’s Dog-centric, concerned about Shadow’s mental health as well as training. The two have an intimate relation in Shadow’s case.

In the daylight and with me Shadow is a puppy. Throwing her toys in the air, chewing on bones, running outside with her tail held high.

At night she becomes fearful of the threshold to the inside. When I try to train her, she becomes cautious, tentative, suspicious. Amy’s better with her, but she gets some of the same behaviors, too.

A difficult journey for both of us. Worth it. Why? Because it’s a matter of love, of learning each other, of coming to know each other in our mutual woundedness.

 

Started my class on Religion’s Radical Roots yesterday. Rabbi Jamie through Kabbalah Experience. He’s such a good teacher. The best I’ve ever had. A very smart guy, empathetic, too.

We gave religion as a whole a letter grade, then offered what religion meant-the word and the social institution. I gave a B to a B- admitting I might be guilty of grade inflation.

Here’s my three minute definition of religion’s purpose:

I see religion as an antidote to hyper-rationalism, as a poetry of the inner world, as an attempt to order the chaos of public life, (which is when it usually gets in trouble), as a source for ideas about justice that can challenge existing political paradigms.

Fun to be in class with Rabbi Jamie. Thursday mussar, Bagel Table, and now this class. My happy place. Makes me wonder, again, why I haven’t taught.

My current conclusion. My understanding has a built in trap door. The minute something begins to feel solid for me the acid of questions opens holes in it. If I taught, I would say: Here is this idea. But, don’t trust it. It has this flaw and that one. We’d never get anywhere.

I’ve become ok with this over my lifetime, even see it as a feature, not a bug. Yet it has definite complications.

Dogs, Family, Feelings, Fourth Phase, Great Wheel, Sport

April

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Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Shadow, eater of bones. Fatigue. Ritalin. Breakfast out. CookUnity, above adequate. Passover this Saturday. Liberation. Easter, April 20. Resurrection. Jihad. Greater and lesser. Mark’s students, boys becoming men. Dire Wolves live. Colossal Bioscience. De-extinction. Science wonders. The Night Sky. Orion, my old friend. Andover. A time of abundance.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Dire Wolves alive

Week Kavannah: Wu Wei

One brief shining: Shadow comes over, puts her paws on the arm of my chair, stares up at me with her soulful dark eyes, and says, in crystal clear Dog, I want my breakfast!

 

April. Brother Mark and Dad’s birthdays. Ruth and Gabe’s. Kate’s yahrzeit on April l2th, celebrated on April 28th of the Hebrew calendar this year. My son and Seoah’s wedding anniversary. #9 this year. Passover and Easter.

An emotion filled month recognized by T.S. Eliot’s Wasteland. April is the cruelest month. Has some of that flavor for me.

How do we ever make sense of death and the awful emptiness it brings to the living? Especially when it comes as Mother Earth makes a seasonal turn toward new life. Plants shooting up from Winter’s sleep. Mule Deer Fawns and Elk Calves and Mountain Lion Kits. Bear Cubs. Baby Mark, baby Curtis, baby Ruth, baby Gabe. And Kate’s death. All together. Death and life. The Great Wheel turning, grinding as it goes.

I like the cohesion of Passover and Easter. Their twin messages confront April with powerful reassurance. Slavery of any kind diminishes, weakens the human experiment. Liberation from  the slaveries we are heir to lifts us all.

Death ends a life but it does not end life. Resurrection can heal a whole fallow season, the human heart as it emerges from mourning, the soul killing atrophy of numbness to existence.

These two ministers to the inner and outer realms complement each other. Live in tension perhaps as key representatives of different religions, but can be embraced by both and by those with none.

Religion holds these non-rational ideas, lays them alongside the daily human existence. Reminds us that bondage is not our fate; that death and rebirth are fellow travelers. Always.

 

Sports stop: Do not count your championships until they’re hatched. Or something like that. Ask Duke. Ask Houston. Both lost games they thought were theirs. Duke losing its long predicted Cooper Flag coronation as king of the teen basketball prom. Houston losing its championship in the final seconds of the final game of March Madness.

The new look of college basketball? Uncertain, but likely. Build a team of one and dones. Go for it. A coaches nightmare, I would think. Every year trying to get the one or two best players coming out of high school. Transferring others to compliment them. Play the season. Get into the playoffs. Hopefully. Rinse and repeat.

 

 

Dogs, Fourth Phase, Health, Judaism, Mussar, Shabbat, Weather +Climate

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas.

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Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: Talmud Torah. CBE Men’s Group. Ritalin. Shadow. Less gnawing. The Shema. MVP. Paul. Tom. Irv. Diane. Easter. Passover. Kate, always Kate. Isaiah. Leviticus. The Mishkan. The Golden Calf. Our orange demiraja. My son’s liver. Less fatty. His long month of exercises.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The tongue that says Good Morning, Dad!

Week Kavannah: Wu Wei (yes, still)

One brief shining: It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas, several inches of new white Snow, significant chill in the air (15 degrees), Shadow zooming, leaving trails of white behind her, small paw prints near the door.

 

When Kate and I returned from my son’s and Seoah’s wedding, April 16th, 2016, four feet of Snow had fallen the previous day. Four feet! That’s my mental marker that big Snows are possible here until mid-May.

We got 6 inches overnight which makes 107″ for the season. A bit less than usual so far. I think our average is around 120″.

With Mountain roads this all means the best Snow tires for Ruby. Blizzaks so far, but I may shift to a Hankook studded tire for next winter. Want to give myself the best odds possible the older I get.

 

Conversation with Ellie, palliative care nurse, led me to a decision on treatment options for my back. Going to try the steroid injections first. See what relief I get from them. If it’s not enough, or doesn’t last long, I’ll try the radio-frequency nerve ablation.

I needed some time to get past my fear of needles in my spine. I still have it, but the tradeoff of fear and reward balances toward trying rather than not trying. Still working on setting up physical therapy, which I look forward to.

 

You might be interested in my practice for ratzon this month. Ratzon means will, wish, desire, pleasure in Hebrew. At MVP we locked onto the instinctual nature of desire and the conscious choice implied in will.

Desire impels us toward some action, some theme in our life. Like ambition, love, greed, generosity, wisdom, pancakes versus eggs and bacon, get up or stay in bed. This partner or that one.

Which desire we choose to follow when we summon our will and act determines the path of our life. This rhythm never leaves us. Day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute we choose to act on this desire or that one, accumulating in those acts habits and trends in our lives.

My practice for this month involves looking through my acts each day to see what desires I’ve chosen to reinforce, which ones I’ve said no to.

For example. Yesterday I got up with Shadow as her gnawing became more and more insistent. I chose her needs over my desire to remain in bed. Our new habit of my sitting on the ottoman while she snuggles into me followed.

I wrote Ancientrails, a longstanding habit of over twenty years then got myself breakfast. Lox and cream cheese on crackers. A choice. While eating, I watched a TV show, let Shadow outside after she finished eating her breakfast.

I decided, for the fifth day in a row, that I would wait on the physical therapist to start exercising again. Spent the rest of the morning in Talmud Torah on Parsha Vayikra, reading the first five chapters of Leviticus and Zornberg’s commentary.

At 11 I talked to Ellie, the head palliative care nurse at Denver Hospice. We discussed the Ritalin and its effects on my fatigue, my MRI results and the treatment options.

After that Shadow and I took a long nap. When I got up, my Cookunity order had been delivered. After horsing it into the house, I put the meals in the refrigerator, finished unloading the dishwasher, and added twenty-four cans of seltzer water to the fridge’s pullout door.

And so forth. I reinforced my desire to be a good dad to Shadow. Several times. I reinforced my 2005 decision to write Ancientrails every morning. I reinforced television as a companion while eating. I reinforced Talmud Torah on Fridays before Bagel Table. I reinforced good selfcare by talking to Ellie and by taking a nap.

I did not reinforce exercise, lighting the Shabbat candles.

So. Who was I yesterday. A good dog dad. A Jew. A writer, self-explorer. A man aware of his health, though not always acting on that awareness. A man who watches television in part as a companion. A reader of fiction.

Today more choices. More desires. More chances to shape my life. Trying to figure out how wu wei fits with this approach. Later on that one.

 

Dogs, Family, Fourth Phase

Last of the Teen Age. More Shadow. Humpty-Trumpty.

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Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

Friday gratefuls: Shadow. Diane and her healing. Mark in Bahrain for a visa run. Talking to my son this evening/his morning. Parsha Vayikra. Dog toys. Passover. Liberation. Wu wei. Snow. Mary in K.L. (I think.) Tara. Vince. Sophia. Arjan. Namibia. Ratzon and daily actions. Rich. Ron. Jamie.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Desire

Week Kavannah: Wu wei

One brief shining: Yesterday my zoom screen lit up four different times with cousin Diane and her adventures, the Fantastic Four talking about dogs and the value of friendships, a Kabbalah Experience class focused on a New Story for Human Consciousness, and Thursday mussar with yet more on anavah, humility. Zoomed out.

 

Spoke with Ruth yesterday. Today is her 19th birthday. Last of the Teen Age. We talked. About this, the third birthday since her Dad died. About my MRI results. About her plans for today.

She said at one point, “I believe in you.” Hit me stronger than I would have imagined. Realized Kate was my I believe in you person. With her death I’ve not had that sentiment expressed from someone as close in as Ruth. If I’ve had it expressed at all. Felt good. Really good. At 78 I don’t need that kind of validation, but it sure feels fine to get it.

 

Dog journal: Shadow continues to gnaw at me. Or, at least close to me. No alarm could be better. May have hit on a way to solve her morning chewing. Just bought some dog toys that release treats as they’re played with. I’ll fill them up, take them to bed with me and when the chewing starts, I’ll toss one down to her. Might work. Right?

Once she’s trained to the leash I’m going to pause the training for a bit. She seems reluctant to take training from me. Not sure why. Might be too much for her right now. Or my No, Shadow! I want to sleep! might have made her resistant right now. The leash though is key to vet visits, trips to mussar, and beyond.

Our life has a rhythm. Much more like the doggy relationships I’m used to. Of course, she’s still a puppy, 10 months old I think, yet we’re getting much better at mutual communication.

 

Just a moment: Break the government. Break the economy. Break the norms of decency. Break the power of the courts. Can Humpty-Trumpty’s America ever get put back together again?

Make America great again? Hell, I’d settle for low normal right now.

Those elementary school teacher photos of Humpty-Trumpty holding up the tariff explainer board? Sad. Economists agree that his view of tariffs and their uses are simplistic. Gosh, that does. Not. Surprise. Me.

 

So glad I have Bond and Devick watching my investments. This turmoil Trump has created in the markets can be read as an opportunity for folks who understand. Even if I make no gains overall I know Bond and Devick will protect my corpus. Important to have that confidence.

My finances are a three-legged stool: Presbyterian pension, Social Security, and income from Kate’s rollover IRA. The first two together produce about as much as my draw from the IRA.

The rollover is the part of my portfolio subject to market fluctuations. Both the pension and social security increase from time to time. A 5% rise in my pension starts this July. Got a S.S. bump in January. I look to the rollover for a steady amount each year. Can be hard in down years, but Bond and Devick have kept it steady for over thirty years.

 

 

Dogs, Fourth Phase, Friends, Mussar

Something’s gnawing at me

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Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

Thursday gratefuls: MVP. Desire. Jealousy. Will. Willingness. Ron. Rich. Joanne. Marilyn. Susan. Laurie. Kaathe. Tara. Loving friends. The crescent Wu Wei Moon with Jupiter below. The Night Sky. Shadow. Ana. Clean House. CookUnity.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Cosmic Void

Week Kavannah: Wu Wei

One brief shining: Gnawing, chewing, Shadow announces the coming of early morning, still dark, still fast asleep until the grinding of wood on Dog teeth, what is that, that noise, I want to sleep, no she says, stopping only for a moment, oh fine you win and I stumble out of bed after a late night.

 

Dog journal: Yes, I have a new alarm clock. Not a welcome one at the hour she chooses. Yet I left her alone last night while I went to the synagogue and she was fine.

She doesn’t clock the lateness of the hour when I return. Doesn’t adjust her waking to my sleep deprived brain.

She’s throwing her weasel in the air, squeaking it, chewing, twisting her head and the weasel in the predator’s death grip, breaking the spine. Mine aches in sympathy.

Her life and mine, intertwined and growing closer by the day, the hour. She will not chew on the bed, the nightstand, and the baseboard forever. Thank Dog.

 

Got my ears lifted, as we used to say in Indiana. Jackie’s letting her silver sneak out of her blondeness. Just a bit in front.

Rhonda sat cross legged on her chair, eating a lollipop, and laughing at meme’s on her phone. A budding thespian cured under the hair dryer, having asked Jackie at the last minute for a twenties hair-do. With finger rolls, whatever that it is.

I’m seeing Jackie every three weeks now, keeping my hair and beard under tighter management. Plus I get to see Jackie and Rhonda every three weeks.

(The weasel squeaketh yet. Now the skunk.)

 

MVP: To get at will and desire as core to our soul and our growth, I invented an exercise. After asking folks to use their best centering techniques to get into a calm place, I offered two instructions: first, pick a time period of significance: might be a day, a month, a year, a decade. Consider what challenges, barriers, joys it presents. They had time to settle into that.

Then. Imagine you are in a white room, sitting in a chair. A long wooden table is in front of you. I’m asking you to imagine five objects on it: a pile of cash, a book and a pen, a thread, a pair of scissors, and a tiny globe.

Once you have those objects clearly in mind, pay attention to which one attracts you. After you’ve done that, as you wish come back to the room.

When every one had returned, I asked them to imagine how the object they chose might help them during the time period they selected.

One person had chosen the time period between now and high school graduation for their grandkids. Their object was the thread which they saw as connecting them to their grandkids and to their extended family.

Another had chosen retirement and the book and pen. He talked about the challenge of getting to retirement so he could once again focus on his creativity. His writing.

Surprised the hell out of me that the exercise worked so well. Everybody enjoyed the explanation of it, too. The table was a doljabi table which Koreans use on a child’s first birthday to gauge the child’s future. I wrote about this a few weeks ago.

An evening of deep, intimate conversation. I felt so good when it was done.

 

 

 

 

Fourth Phase, Mussar

Will to have no will

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Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

How about letting the River flow by, twisting here, pooling there, rushing over dams and Rocks and Boulders, always soft, brushing against its Banks, taking a bit of the Soil, other Organic matter, blending it with the Waters of Mountain Streams and Creeks, seeking a path to the World Ocean.

Of course. Really. No choice. The way it goes anyhow. Only difference? Twisting and turning no more. Set in the kayak that holds my life, using the paddle to stay in the current. Let go. Let be. Unloose. Set free.

Cannot shake this desire, this ratzon. This will for my life. Irony. Will to have no will. Desire to have no desire.

It scares me. Unmoored, tethered no more. A Pebble, a speck of Sand carried by forces invisible. Give up the rudder? Who does that? At any age.

Shadow runs through her day. She takes food and water when they come. She rolls and jumps and zooms. Plays. Presses the squeaker on her toys until she wears out. Then she sleeps. Wakes up. Again, the day as it comes.

We Americans, like all advanced civilizations, pride ourselves on bending nature, talent, life, even love to our intention. Manifest, damn it! Our stubbornness, our drive, our will to power create sharp angles, boxes where nature has fractals and curves.

Even the Gods. We pray and create dogma. Box in the sacred. Give its revelation to ancient authors. To rituals. We run from the still small voice as if it were the battle cry of an ogre.

When. If. We stopped for a moment to listen. To see. To wait. To feel the flow of the universe around us, to grant ourselves the freedom to become flotsam on the quantum foam. We would become one with the foam, one with the One. As we are already. No matter our beliefs or attitudes.

I want, no, I will my life to have no will. No intention. No truth. No direction. Float with my Shadow, my home, my friends, my family. Where the River goes.

Dogs, Family, Fourth Phase, Health, Politics, US History

Pain Doc and Chauvinist Economics

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Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

Monday gratefuls: Shadow and her aggressive chewer toys. Perfect. Going in and coming out, less of an issue. Her spirit. Sitting at the Wicked Whisk with Ruth and Gabe. Talking. The spirit of Sound. And the spirit within us. Resonant. Days gone by. My son’s generous spirit. Korea. Murdoch. Luke and Leo coming up today.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Grandkids

Week Kavannah: Wu Wei

One brief shining: In the empty bakery, sold out early of its French pastries, eating the last of the scones, the shortbread almond cookies, and drinking espressos from paper cups, Ruth and Gabe and I talked of parents who died too soon, the excitement of international travel, reincarnation, and the Reformation, as families will on a late Sunday morning when they’re Jewish.

 

Seeing the pain doc today. MRI results. Home P.T. referral. Not too hopeful, but looking for any help I can get. That’s not addictive or surgical. A short list.

Need it even more. The pain has moved across my lower back and now includes my left hip and upper leg. Hope none of it is cancer pain. I don’t think so, but I don’t really know.

Will get a copy of the radiologist’s report. Look for those incidental findings.

 

Luke and Leo coming up this afternoon. Luke will help get my Dell desktop setup. Leo and Shadow can have the backyard, get to know each other.

Once my new desktop functions I plan to introduce Shadow to the stairs. So far she has not learned to go up them and that has confined her to my lower living space. And pretty much me along with her.

I’m a bit reluctant to do it since there’s a whole new world of things to chew upstairs. She’s been really good about the furniture down here. Except for my nightstand. It was not well made.

If she has toys, she prefers them. Most of the time. Like a toddler she embraces distraction. I can put a new toy in front of her and she’ll choose (chews) that over a chair leg.

Right now she has a yellow duck in her mouth, squeaking. Every once in a while, duck held tight, she’ll look up and smile. Warms me.

 

Just a moment: Oh, spare me. Already. Third term floating out there. Can you run the country from a memory unit no matter how high end? Vance runs, then gives the scepter to the Boss. What will there be left to eviscerate?

Do you understand how tariffs raise money for us? Cars will get more expensive. Other goods, too. Inflation will rise. A possible recession. Of which Trump is not afraid. No doubt. All billionaires can continue making money even during a recession. A recession damages labor and those lower on the economic totem pole, i.e., the rest of us.

Reagan practiced supply side, or voodoo economics. Trump practices chauvinist economics and ignores their impact on anything but what his narrow America First agenda prioritizes. Yikes.

Sounds like a planned economy to me. Eh?

 

Feelings, Fourth Phase, Memories, Music

Aural Journal

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Spring and the Wu Wei Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: CBE. Alan. Joanne. Marilyn. Irv. Tara. Arjan. Ginny and Janice. Dan. Rich. Ron. Jamie. Laurie. Veronica. Rick. Luke. Leo. Eleanor. Shadow. Gracie. Annie. Luna. Wild Neighbors. Great Sol. Colorado Blue Sky. Shadow Mountain. Rock. Soil. Trees. Creeks. Valleys. Clouds. Atmosphere. Seasons.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Wu Wei

One brief shining: Songs that we love, that drive our hearts mad, dredge up detailed glimpses of experience past, send our souls into spiritual ecstasy, make our feet begin to tap and our body begin to sway, what is this strange hold sound has over us?

 

 

 

Feelings, Fourth Phase

My Heart Wants This

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Spring and the Snow Moon

Friday gratefuls: Shadow. Digestion. Alan. Cool nights. Shadow’s toys. The Duck, almost rended. The Chipmunk. Unidentifiable. My nightstand. Gnawed. Puppies, eh? On liberation. And wandering. Tolkien. Moorcock. Britain. England. Scotland. Wales. Cornwall. Ruth and Gabe. Lox.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Shadow running with a nerf football

Week Kavannah: Ratzon. Will, desire, pleasure.

One brief shining: A paw, a lick, a pushup on her two hind feet and her butt Shadow greets me with a full body hug, mouth open sharp puppy teeth snagging my sweatshirt, eyes wide with love.

 

Several things flashing signs at me. Diane, “Your job is to stay healthy.” After retirement. That way others who need you can still find you above ground. A song as TV background, “You just gotta let go and everything will be all right.” Wu wei.

Began to think about my odd path to this age. Left the work force at 43. Kate, always Kate. Wrote 9 novels. Gardened. Cooked. Cared for Dogs. Did grocery shopping. Kept Bees. A Docent for 12 years. Living the life of a suburban housewife.

After our move to Colorado, I did all the fire mitigation: cutting down the Trees, delimbing, bucking, moving slash. Still shopping and cooking. Caring for the Dogs. Then, Kate. Her death.

Four years later Shadow and I reside here at Shadow Mountain Home.

Never really had that clean break with the work world most folks experience at retirement. My work became my daily life and the meaning, the purpose Dogs, Kate, grandkids. Writing.

Listening to my heart now. What is mine to do? The hermit life (with benefits-friends and family) has begun to appeal to me again. This time as an expression of the fourth phase, the spiritual wanderer, the Fool of the major arcana. Also as an expression of a retreat from my previous world of politics and action. My version of retirement.

I’m old enough. I’ve earned it with a life of action and service, by coping well with serious illness, by having a wonderful environment and home.

A part of me says no. No. Judaism runs, in some ways, across this decision. Rabbi Tarfon, “You are not duty-bound to finish the work, but on the other hand, you have no right to waste time from it…” Using age and infirmity as an excuse rather than a reason.

The activist in me says everything is political. Even this decision because it leaves the playing field to MAGA and the world of the autocrats. If everybody followed my choice.

Yet. I feel the need to take a breath. To lay down my sword and shield, down by the Riverside. To become the Taoist scholar of those wonderful Song dynasty paintings.

Let the hours and the days, the months and the years wash over me. Become. Live in becoming rather than doing.

My heart wants this. Long habit and a felt pressure from the Tarfon’s of this world (including and most telling, my inner Tarfon) pushes against letting go. Letting the world go on, in a sense, without me.

Fourth Phase, Health, Shadow Mountain

Neighbors Helping Neighbors

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Spring and the Snow Moon

Wanted to capture this while fresh. Drove into Leetsdale Ave near Cherry Creek in Denver. Right at the boundary of the largest Jewish community in Colorado. But I wasn’t there for religious reasons, I needed an MRI of my lumbar spine and Open-Sided MRI has its clinic there.

After time in an iron lung, which I do not remember, my body will not let my head be confined. At all. Ever. Traditional MRI’s therefore are out. Long metal tube, human insert. Face inches from the tube’s top. Nope.

So. Open-Sided. Though. When the sled slid under the projection of the magnetic circle, I looked up, found metal inches from my face. “I can’t do this.”

Chris pulled me back out. How about if you look to the side. I tilted my head to the left and there an opening appeared. But I was already scared. “I’m not sure.”

“I’ll get Audra and she can sit with you.”

A measure of serendipity. I’d talked to Audra on the phone Monday and discovered she had moved to Conifer last October. She had a quick wit and kindness in her voice. We agreed to swap stories of best spots to eat when I got there. A charming woman in her late 30’s, early 40’s I found her delightful at check-in, too.

Audra came in and held my hand for the entire 20 minutes of the exam. At first, still nervous, I looked her in the eyes and she pressed her thumb against my left hand which she held in her right.

After a while the odd noises of the MRI, which sounded like House music, and her comfort helped me relax. I closed my eyes.

A long twenty minutes. But, when it was done, I collected my disc with the scan on it, went out to the front desk and thanked Audra, back at her computer, again. She put my chai necklace back on.

I thought, decided to go ahead. “My wife died four years ago. That was the longest I’ve been touched since then. Regardless of the help I needed with the MRI, I wanted to say thanks for that, too.”

A sweet moment.