“Life is grace. Sleep is forgiveness. The night absolves. Darkness wipes the slate clean, not spotless to be sure, but clean enough for another day’s chalking.” ~ Frederick Buechner
It started after Annie and I ripped that honeysuckle out of the ground last Saturday. I sounded like a mix of Lauren Becall and Brenda Viccaro. Serious coughing spells woke me in the middle of the night until I was rendered speechless. I haven’t been able to speak for two days. Using the new on-campus Employee Urgent Care facility, I found I had bronchitis. They gave me antibiotics and a stern warning about pneumonia. Meanwhile, my old buddy, Alisa Marshall Burnett, whom you may recall had her stepson at UK just Tuesday, is recovering from a stroke suffered that same night. She turns 49 on Monday. This is her second stroke, the first suffered at 38. We’ve been texting each other this week. I told her I was ill in solidarity. She was in good humor until today’s lumbar puncture. Overall, though, she is okay. I am okay. We’re just getting older. I’m so thankful to still have her to grow old with. That’s what childhood friends are supposed to do.
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