Church, physical therapy, and a salmon dinner. That strikes me as an odd mixture, but it was a happy day. I’ve been going to church more and more interested in going lately, which seems to me yet another sign of recovery. Today it was an encouraging experience, because several people stopped me to comment on my progress, ask how I was, just generally check in. I got a couple of hugs and a lot of fellowship. Christian, trying to make our way to the exit, finally said, “You’re the most popular woman in church this morning.” Jacob was with us and was detailed to walk with me to the corner, while Christian went ahead for the car. I am here to tell you that the west wind was really cold. I have had the heat on in the cottage today.
My physical therapist came this afternoon. I was surprised when she scheduled a Sunday visit, but I think we both thought PT was over, the insurance wouldn’t approve the doctor’s latest request. After a two-week hiatus, they did, and here she was. She’d been making me walk on the cane, and I expected disappointment, even argument, when I said no more cane. The doctor said so! Instead, she readily agreed. She said if I’m uncomfortable with it, then we won’t do it. We’re concentrating on upper body strength. Nine visits left on this prescription.
Ellen, the PT, made my day when I asked her if I seemed different than when she first knew me, back in February. The question was prompted by all the people who say they see a remarkable difference in me. She put it in terms of my aura. When she came, she said, my aura said, “I’m sick. I’m old.” Today, she said it proclaims that I am healthy and younger—not young, but still I’ll take what I can get.
Twenty-five years ago, I had a good friend who called me his adopted sister. A gay man who would never have children of his own, he adored my children and taught them to drive and ride horseback. He was family. He was also, he was sure, a psychic, and he talked a lot about people’s auras, though it was always in terms of the color of their auras. Ellen didn’t mention that today. What do you think your aura says about you? What color is it?
Tonight, Christian fixed a wonderful salmon dinner. There’s a story there. He has always said he didn’t like salmon, but one night when I fixed it for Jordan and me (and steak for him), he tasted it and liked it. I had done it with anchovy butter. I tried to talk him into miso salmon but he was set on grilling and said miso doesn’t adhere to the surface well enough to grill. He did a marinade of soy, sugar, garlic and I guess oil, and he undercooked mine just the way I like it. With potatoes, corn, and salad, it was a scrumptious meal. I’m finding that Christian and I have fun talking about food, though I’m trying hard to educate both of them about such small things as why you buy corn in the full husk and not semi-husked in a cello packet, why you don’t buy generic honey or olive oil, etc. It’s sort of an uphill battle, makes Jordan defensive, though Christian is a bit more willing to listen.
I’m at a crucial point in the book I’m reading, so good night.