Today is my eldest brother’s birthday—a notable one that bisects a decade. If not for medical mandates I have been strongly advised to follow, I probably would be visiting him at his home, rather than settling for a celebratory Zoom call. Twenty years ago, more or less, he and his wife opted to retire to a place where Spanish is the primary language and the weather is, usually, close to meteorological nirvana. Were I considerably more adventurous and more demanding, I might have retired someplace else. I might have accepted the risks of leaving the country of my birth, thereby broadening my horizons and expanding my knowledge of the world outside my limiting, insular environment. But I did not, so I must try to be satisfied to live vicariously by learning about my brother’s experiences. He and his wife have adapted and adjusted exceptionally well. They love where they live. I am glad they do. And I am glad they welcome mi novia and me to visit. I hope to have opportunities to visit them again before too long. We shall see.
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The first thirty years of my life seemed interminable. The second thirty years passed far more quickly. I do not expect to complete the third set, though if I do I think that final thirty years will seem to have taken place in the blink of an eye. I feel that the first third of that span has raced by at the speed of light. I think life experiences give us the ability to better understand subsequent life events. That understanding enables us to absorb more in the same amount of time, so that our experiences seem to double from one span of time to the next. And that translates into the sensation that periods of time accelerate as we move through them. Just a theory, of course, but it makes sense to me.
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When a person hears the phrase, “grey walls,” most people probably visualize drab, dirty, depressing grey. Not everyone, though. The mind’s eye of some people sees a placid, clean, bright grey…a cool, serene color that represents serenity—calm and peaceful. People who conjure that grey in their mind often consider the color among their favorites. “Grey is your favorite color?” others may ask, incredulously, as if in the company of someone who has just admitted to joining vultures in eating carrion on the roadside. The very idea of grey having any redeeming characteristics is beyond their comprehension. Negative judgments about the entire spectrum of grey colors is unnatural, I think. People are taught to dislike grey; they do not embrace such bigotry as normal reaction to seeing the colors. Colors; plural. Grey spans the range from light grey to dark grey. The color can be sullied through mixture with other colors—blue or green or brown, for example—but pure greys, whether light or intense, are decidedly appealing. Attractive. Comfortable.
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Again this morning, I woke early…around 3:45. Finally, at 4:20, I abandoned my wasted efforts to sleep, thanks to a headache and my tongue’s disturbing unnatural affinity for fondling the back of certain of my lower front teeth. I woke hungry, though not starving by any means. I wanted an avocado, drizzled with fresh lime juice and sprinkled with chunky salt. I still do. Perhaps I will eat one of two remaining ripe avocados, a step toward joyous appreciation for the little things in life.
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Once again, I seem to be drifting toward sleep. Eating an avocado while asleep is dangerous; one could forget to peel it. Or, worse still, one could absent-mindedly ingest the pit. Or, even worse, inhale the pit. The only safe way to eat an avocado is to be thoroughly awake during the entire process. Maybe I’ll wait. Maybe not.
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As long as I am awake and on my way to the oncologist’s office by 12:45 to get my IV fluids, all will be well.
