Monday, November 25, 2013


Mirtha cutting Sophie's hair this weekend

I woke this morning at 5:15, anticipating the drive to Henry's school where he "conditions" three times a week for baseball tryouts in January. I lay on my back in the cold darkness, enumerating worries. Anxious about money. Anxious about Sophie and our ability to pay for, even continue to get, the medical marijuana that is, after nineteen years, the first treatment to help her. I glanced at my phone, at a thread on the pediatric cannabis therapy group on Facebook, a thread hijacked by a woman who insists on conspiracy. Something about seeds and growing it yourself and letting the seeds out. More about mold and pesticides, rumors that it will be another year before Charlotte's Web is spun in California. I felt the thread of worry. These people are all nuts, I thought, even as I get it. Get the nuts, that is. I've climbed into bed with people who believe that 9/11 is a conspiracy, who post about Obamacare in apocalyptic terms, who don't bat an eye at yellow journalism. But I get it. People thrown together, tied by threads, spinning. We do what we have to for our children. Who am I to judge? I will only accept another drug if Jesus himself offers it to me. I lie down, fully clothed, next to men who call Obama The Anointed One -- as an epithet. Mary Magdalene would do no less.

I forgot, though, of gratitude, that groping impulse toward it.

Gratitude is so close to the bone of life, pure and true,
that it instantly stops the rational mind, and all its planning
and plotting.  -- Regina Sara Ryan


  1. One paragraph is all it took to make me laugh, think, and sigh out loud with the enormity of it all. Elizabeth -thank you so much.

  2. I would be thankful if you could soon erase the worry of getting the one treatment that has helped Sophie the most after all the long years of trying so many medications to relieve her symptoms!


  3. I am hanging on to gratitude myself today.
    And oh yeah, that Keith Richards fantasy.
    Kisses, honey.

  4. I am certain that gratitude is the opposite of fear and since fear has rarely ever motivated me to do something important and memorable, I shall continue to opt for gratitude when I remember to.

  5. Just getting caught up in your world the past week or so.
    Overall, some serious good stuff!!!

  6. 5:15 a.m. it's an ungodly hour ain't it?

  7. I hate that gratitude has become somewhat cliche, because it really does help me--or would, if I cold ever remember it.

    May all troubling rumors be false ones.

  8. Yes, strange bedfellows. I have the same dilemmas with friends of mine, family members, parents of children who attend the same classes as my son, fellow Lyme patients. I think this is gentle forbearance.



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