Pondering our future and a goodbye

Street art

Yesterday morning, I went for a really nice walk around the waterfront with two dear friends. It was sunny (as you can see in the above photo) and cold, with the temperature in the low thirties (1.5°C). We walked around five miles, and by the time we were done, it had warmed up considerably, with no wind and after having been active. It felt really nice.

I needed it for several reasons, not the least of which is that I learned that my dear blogging friend Ronni Bennett died Friday evening. As many of you know, she wrote the blog Time Goes By for fifteen years, and I have been a follower and fan for more than a decade. Three years ago now, Ronni discovered she had pancreatic cancer and decided to opt for the Whipple Procedure, an invasive operation that gives people with this illness a chance to live. She describes the entire process in great detail, and it's worth your time if you want to go back and read about how she dealt with dying.

She did two things that I find really rather amazing: she arranged to have a guided psilocybin "trip" to help her deal with the fear of dying, and I have gone back and read about it more than once. (I just tried to find it again with no success. No search box on TGB, but all her posts are still there.) She described in response to her trip that finally her fear of dying had changed dramatically. 

The other thing she did, after having become a Hospice patient, was to arrange to have the drugs in her home that she could take when it became impossible to continue, and not having to wait for the natural process of death to take place. This is legal in Oregon, where she lived. At this point I don't know if she actually took them, or whether she died without them. From what I know, pancreatic cancer is a particularly painful death, and she cared for her father many years ago when he died of it. In any event, she is gone, leaving her dedicated fans and followers to muddle through. She has a good friend, Autumn, who will take over the blog and keep it alive so that we can all continue to "visit" with Ronni and glean her wisdom, even now that she's gone from the world.

After having had a copious cry, I read the comments from other readers who had responded to her passing, and it was time to begin the process I've grown to know all too well: mourning the loss of a treasured friend. When Ruth Bader Ginsburg passed, I began the process with her, and it still continues to this day. They both died of pancreatic cancer, which for a rather rare cancer, seems to be all too present in my own circle. Those two, along with one of my hiking buddies who was younger than me, also died of it last year. 

Dying is a part of life. Nobody and nothing that is born escapes death, and now that I have lived long enough that I've passed through all the phases of the life cycle, except for the final one of dying, I realize how fortunate I am to still be active, with relatively few aches and pains (although there are still plenty, if I focus on them), and so very much to be grateful for. When I watch the news and see what's happening in other parts of the world, I again thank the Powers That Be for my good fortune of having been born here in the United States.

But that might be changing soon. In two days, we will have an election that will change the trajectory of this country in profound ways. No matter who wins, I fear we are in for a bumpy ride, one which I am not sure all of us will survive. There is so much hate and division, more than I would ever have thought possible, everywhere in this country. What happens next depends on whether people decide to concentrate on what we all share and preserve it, or whether we decide to take out our anger on each other.

I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality... I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word. —Martin Luther King, Jr.

I have an extra hour this morning, since we again changed our clocks back to Standard Time, which will be around for a few months before we go back to Daylight Saving Time again in the spring. Of course I couldn't sleep beyond my usual waking time, so I've already been up for more than an hour, and it's not even 6:00am yet! I really dislike the process, although I am happy for my friends who never seem to get enough sleep and can snooze for an extra hour. This time change will mess with my routine for a week or so, but I have little problem losing that extra hour in the spring. I'm weird like that.

One thing I have realized as I ponder the future is that whatever we end up going through during the next week or so will finally pass. It sure doesn't help that we are still, all over the world, in the grip of Covid-19. It isn't as bad in my own state as it is in several others, but the good thing is that now we seem to know a little better how to treat the illness in those who end up in the hospital. People are still dying, and that really makes me sad and angry at people who don't take it seriously. But I can only do what I can in my own circles and have no power to change them. I want to believe what Martin Luther King, Jr. says in that quote: that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word. 

And of course I need to take care of myself as best I can, stay out of crowds and stay masked and socially distant, except for my own Covid "pods," and hope for the best. It takes a lot for me to actually get down on my knees and pray, but I'm doing that now, and trying to find peace wherever I can. My dear life partner sleeps next to me, peacefully, and that makes me smile. The day is beginning bright and sunny (when the sun comes up, that is), and I will visit my friends at the coffee shop, even though it's cold we will gather and take comfort in each other's presence. We might end up huddling in John's truck as we drink our hot coffee and remind each other how important friends are. 

And that is how I will end this post, thinking about a week from now when I hope we will gather here together in virtual communion, and we take a look at our changed world and find it good. You are admonished to find one thing, just one, to be grateful for. If you do that, you'll find other reasons not far behind. Take care of yourself, dear reader, and keep believing that unconditional love will have the final word.