I should have written this morning, when I saw the Rockettes on TV and I spun a whole childhood memory on it, and perhaps I will, in a few minutes. First, an update.After I posted yesterday, I talked to my sister, and again just a few minutes ago, and it's like nothing happened. Nothing. At. All. While I'm glad that we're okay -- I knew we would be -- it's a bit startling. I don't know if this means she's over her pre-holiday anxiety, or like me, she's just not talking about it anymore. Maybe she is just sucking it up for her family, which is hunky-dory by me. I think if she had freaked out on me the other day and had said first, This is me freaking out, just listen and don't take anything seriously, I would have been just fine. But she didn't, so I still feel that the holiday is very tainted for me. One thing I can tell you, I don't get over things easily; I don't let go of the feelings of bad things that have happened to me. Some people do. Whatever it is, we are on some kind of healing path, which is good. We'll discuss it more after the holiday. And you know, this could all change in an instant, so who knows.
My leg is mostly feeling very good, but my back hurts today. Not muscle spasms and the inability to move, just sore and painful. I think it's because of the car I'm driving. You may think I'm crazy, but I'm used to driving my Tracker, which is a little tiny SUV, and I sit up very straight and it's good for my back. But the Tracker is in for service, so I rented a car from Saturday to Monday, some kind of little Ford, a sedan. Very nice, but sitting in a sedan for any length of time is just not good for my back. I've spent most of the day lying on the couch here in the family room, sleeping or just being. Not altogether a bad way to spend the day, I suppose.
Oy, Rockettes. A whole essay on my childhood and my parents and going to Radio City Music Hall .... another time, I think. When I'm more awake.
