Present Day

Now I am old, and retired—a grandmother of 16. I live alone in a yellow 3-bedroom house with attached garage across the street from my youngest daughter. She is a professor and very disciplined and appreciates my help with the 2 boys. Her husband also has a demanding job downtown. My son also lives nearby and works long hours. The little families are very busy.

Whereas I nap quietly in my chair by the fireplace with a little strawberry blond dog by my leg. I send up quiet prayers of thanks for this pretty sweet afternoon. The only drawback is chronic stiffness and constant pain.

Polio myelitis they called it—scourge of childhood in the 1940s.  Polio also carried off adults, including my best friend’s mother. My own bout at age 7 was less fatal, less dramatic; but perhaps responsible for my lifelong clumsiness and most likely for the crippling “arthritis” or “fibromyalgia” or whatever this invisible syndrome is. One mustn’t complain because one knows so many have it worse etc. etc. But the pain is to be lived with and managed by the day by the hour.

Yet, pretty sweet existence. Denny would say, “You’ve done OK, Pat!”