The temperatures have been frigid around here again this week. The arctic cold held on through the weekend, but at least the sun was out in all its splendor on Saturday. It was blindingly bright, and even if it did nothing to warm the air, it felt good to be rid of the gray overcast for a change.
We ordered the headstone for my dad’s grave site on Saturday. Mom chose a nice, moderately sized marker. It’s going to be made from a stone called Lake Superior Green. We all agreed that this particular stone was the perfect choice for Dad, having been such a lover of lakes and the outdoors. Mom is having a special symbol engraved on the stone, the one that represents Dad’s diaconate class. The main image is a cross and there’s a robed figure kneeling at the foot. Mom also chose to include the title of which Dad was so proud, Deacon. Dad would approve. His burial place will be clearly marked by Memorial Day. And since the cemetery is so near where I work, I can imagine I’ll have lots of opportunity to go visit when the weather is more accommodating.
Our visit to the cemetery was much easier this time around than last, when our grief was so fresh. As my family and I contemplated how we would customize the stone, we perused the multitude of options for memorializing a loved one. One that caught our attention was a vault made in the shape of an upright piano. That got my brothers going, and they tossed around comments such as, Mine’s going to be a bass boat, or We’re making yours in the shape of a toilet. Yep, as much as they can frustrate me, I have to admit they can also make me laugh.
Mom had been complaining for a few days that her skin hurts. Friday night, she showed me a slight rash on her left arm and asked what I thought it was. It looked like eczema to me and I gave her some cortisone cream. Saturday morning, I woke up thinking, shingles. After a quick internet search, I felt positive that was it. So after our visit to the cemetery, I took Mom to urgent care where the doctor confirmed she most definitely has shingles.
I made a trip to Walgreen’s afterwards to pick up Mom’s prescriptions. While there, I couldn’t help but notice the middle aisles of the store were obnoxiously boasting Valentine’s Day decor and products. We don’t sucked into the hype, but I did pick up a nice card for Jack, and couldn’t resist a heart-shaped box of chocolates for him with a cover that looked like duct-tape. He gave me a silly card and a couple of bags of Dove chocolates, which I’ll likely take to work to share so I don’t eat them all myself.
It’s Presidents’ Day today. Some lucky people are enjoying a day off from work in honor of the holiday. I’m off work today too, but I wouldn’t say I’m enjoying it. I stayed home sick.
I woke up with something coming on yesterday morning. Jack was up at six, getting ready to go to work. Before he left, he leaned over the bed to kiss me goodbye. In the dark of our bedroom, his lips landed on my forehead and he remarked, “You’re burning up.”
He was right. I knew because I couldn’t get warm, even under a mountain of blankets. I’ve had a weirdly episodic progression of cold symptoms the past few weeks, feeling miserable and sinsus-y one day, and fine the next. It seems to have all come to a head now. I guess my body was telling me to give it a rest. All day long yesterday, I dealt with aches and chills and that worn-out feeling that accompanies illness. My sweet Lucy suspected something was up. I spent most of the day in bed and she never left my side. What a love! Although, it was a bit much at the point when she literally laid on top of me. I nudged all fifty pounds of her off of me, and she plastered herself against my side instead. I’m feeling somewhat better today, just not enough to go back to work. I’m sure my coworkers will appreciate me keeping my germs at home anyway.