Mid Friday afternoon I suddenly became very cold and began to shake such that it actually became very difficult to sign cheques and letters. I quickly exited the office and came straight home and went to bed. I don't think that I've ever felt colder and I don't think I've ever had a higher fever.
I basically stayed in bed for two days. When I did get up, my balance was gone so I fell several times. The kids showed up at my door to express sympathy, but stayed well away from me. Pam came in several times to check up on me. At one time I thought I saw an insurance form. She did stay in the room long enough for me to explain the severe discomfort I was experiencing. I've often thought that women don't appreciate the significance of a Man cold and how it causes greater pain and discomfort than even childbirth. Pam did relieve herself of the inconvenience of listening to me complain today by heading off fishing this morning at the Chahallis River. Perhaps it was with the belief that nature would do it's nasty little job while she wasn't in the house but when she does return from fishing, she will find that I'm still alive, and partly recovered. It has been a long time since I have spent two days in bed or for that matter two days in the house without leaving . I had no idea that the kids spent so much time in their rooms on their screens. Which is, come to think of it, exactly what I did for the two days when I wasn't sleeping. Sometimes I wonder if when we completely destroy nature, we will even notice since we spend all our time in our rooms on our screens. In any event, if there's one lesson for me to take from this it is that I should be grateful I am sick so seldom. I don't do sickness well. Oh, and I'm sure my family is grateful as well that I am sick so seldom. I like cemeteries. Not to the extent that I want to move in yet. Although I am always in the market for a good photo for my obituary. But I like wandering through cemeteries. Particularly historic ones. I am drawn to read the headstones with names and birth/death dates. For many of those interred therein with no remaining immediate descendants it is the only evidence of their existence. Imagine, those few words giving scant evidence of lives of love, hard work and accomplishment.
I take some comfort that there are three generations of my ancestors in Abbotsford’s Hazelwood cemetery. Someday there will be four (unless Pam simply puts me out with the compost to save money). Many of my Facebook friends have passed over the last several years. Some of their profiles have been turned into memorial sites. Some I knew well, some not so well. I have a few times considered unfriending the two or three dozen friends who are deceased. I know it won’t hurt their feelings but I have resisted doing so. Partly out of respect. Partly because their continuing to be friends isn’t taking any space. And perhaps it’s a way of keeping some memory of people I respected. Facebook presents a conundrum in this respect. Previous to the last couple of weeks I have never unfriended anyone and I still have never blocked anyone. I am a believer in free speech. But two weeks ago I decided to unfriend my first two individuals who had indicated unhappiness with my posts (they apparently didn’t know how to scroll). I thought I would solve their problem for them. Both are seeking elective office next week (hopefully unsuccessfully). They are my first unfriends. “Should I go further? “ I thought. I thought again about the deceased friends. And I considered my own motivations for many of my posts on Facebook. Perversely, I have used Facebook as a diary. Recording events, reactions and thoughts over the last several years. Even including information about my childhood and family history. A diary. Certainly not a private one. A diary where my children can find details and understand me and their history. even after my eventual demise. For all of the negatives of Facebook and the nastiness it encourages, it provides a permanent record. Like the cemetery markers did and do. I think I’ve decided to keep my dead friends out of respect. I just have to learn not to be disappointed when they don’t react to my posts. What do you do with your Facebook friends when they pass? I am a dinosaur. Not only do I write using full words and sentences (a rarity on social media) I have no real understanding or appreciation of the modern technological world. My sons play electronic games with people from all over the world. I hear youngest son Adam talking to fellow gamers throughout the night. My daughters interact with their friends throughout the day by various online means. For them, social isolating is not that isolating. Today I was introduced to my kids’ Tic Tok accounts. They and most of their friends have posted numerous lip sync and dance routines. Now I know what the kids are doing up in their rooms all day. Even our dog Griffin has a Tic Tok account. I feel so left behind. And yet I can’t imagine myself lip synching and doing dance routines. Imagine, a dancing dinosaur
Sad signs of aging:
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