Barbara J. Hamby

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Just Another Day

Today was the kind we often get in late September in the Pacific Northwest that reaffirms my desire to spend the rest of my life here. After dinner I sat with my feet up in a lawn chair outside our front entrance. The rose arbor overhead is loaded with pink, puffy blossoms and the flower boxes are still colorful. Various shades of Primroses are in bloom along the side of the house, mingled with the Dusty Miller. A soft breeze turned the pages of my book as I relaxed.

A few miles North of here, Mt. St. Helens is threatening to rumble again. I think about what the eye doctor told me today and compare it to the mountain. St. Helens is offering puny warnings of what could be a sudden, unpredictable, serious disaster. My eyes are doing much the same. The good news is my vision has not changed in the last year and a half, nor is there any change in the early cataract growth. The bad news is that the tiny bright flashbulbs that pop up alongside my eyes could signal possible future retinal detachments. My eyes will be monitored by the Ophthalmology Department at my local clinic. I am cautioned to report immediately any changes in the symptoms.

At this point in my life I am aware of so many possible disasters that could befall us, that I don’t have energy to worry about any of them.

Que Sera Sera.