Henry reached out to me this afternoon. It's the first time we've spoken this month. I probably let it go longer than I should have, but I'm still too wounded by the bruising I received in mid-February. I wasn't sure I could trust him.
He's never been far from my thoughts, of course. I've kept up with him through Reg and Patrick. And, of course, I've come to care for Patrick and Reg as individuals, too, not just as links to Henry. Naturally I want to know how that whole Key West household is doing through this corona virus pandemic.
Anyway, we had a nice, hour-long chat this afternoon. He was paranoid about catching the virus, but that didn't surprise me. Paranoia is to be expected after a brain injury like his. I tried to reassure him. I don't know if I succeeded, really, but at least we weren't arguing!
Then I changed the subject to my new little MacBook Air. It's not quite two weeks old and I'm still not sure what I'm doing on it yet. He told me how to save a Pages document as a Microsoft Word doc. This saves me the expense and agita of downloading Microsoft Word, and I'm truly grateful.
It was also good for Henry to feel accomplished. Today he wasn't a problem or a burden or a special case. Today he was my hero.
It was good for both of us.
Really, this talking on the phone thing might just be what saves me while in self quarantine.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
I really struggle with talking on the phone. I used to be able to spend hours gabbing away but since the internet and chatting online, I am awkward and uncomfortable talking on the phone.
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