Monday, April 14

Being well

I spent most of my weekend, especially Sunday, on my back, sick and semi-conscious. There were a few moments of clarity that would come my way every now and then, thanks in part to the medicinal potions and extracts in the cabinet above the kitchen sink. But those moments, however, were too brief.

When I'm illin' I have funky dreams, semi-dreams, where I think something is really happening and when I wake up, I find it didn't. Sometimes it's frustrating! Like when some friends came in yesterday, moved my bed around so the sun wasn't shining in on my face and left me some fresh 120 film on my nightstand - didn't happen,,, although it seems I slept better after that.

There was one thing that my mind kept wandering to during my semi-moments of wake and it was of my small hotel room in Honduras. I remember the magnificent sunsets and the orange warmth that would paint the walls of my room late into the evening. I was usually beat after the day and this was the last thing I would see before falling into a deep restful slumber. I slept so peacefully there and didn't really care that it might only be eight or eight thirty when I closed my lids. It was quiet too, except maybe for some neighbors chatting on the street below, but it was melodious and only added to those last wisps of light fading on my curtain. My eyes closed and thoughts faded.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

beautiful sentiment, Ronnie.