I have had a bad cold for two weeks now. I tried not to let it get me down, but I couldn’t. It came suddenly and wrecked me. Worst, my three year old daughter has had the same cold. Both of us sick. Mom had no energy but my little bundle of joy has been bouncing off the walls. I’ve been feeling sorry for myself for not being able to curl up with a good book or being able to truly enjoy my little one’s exuberance. I’ve been depressed and angry for being sick and unable to get any work done.
While I have wallowed in self-pity, the world went on. Babies were born, people died. Some lost their jobs. Some went hungry. Some have learned they have a fatal disease. A man wrote the Canadian Authors Association looking for a writer to help him tell the story of his eight year old daughter who has died of a mysterious illness. Libya has been in chaos. An earthquake hit Japan. A tsunami hit Japan and a few others countries around the Pacific. As I write, nuclear reactors are exploding and melting in Japan.
All I have is bad cold. I forget to count my blessings sometimes. I am fortunate.