Thank you fellow writers for the courage and inspiration to safely break out of my bubble and poke my nose back into the blogs.
When I say “safely”, I mean piercing that bubble in such a way that a cascade of pent up emotion does not drown both reader and author.
You know what I’m talking about. Except, maybe you don’t.
We are far removed from the hotspots in the Southern end of the province. Since March, our regional health unit has had only 20 cases. But the anxiety of the potential to catch the flu underscores each waking moment. My heart breaks for the people on both coasts and the states in between – battling wildfires, hurricanes, civil unrest.
As you will see in the gallery of photos, not much has changed in Northern Ontario.
The part you don’t know about is the stuff that has changed. Let me spit it all out in one breath. Rip off the bandaid in one quick move, as it were.
My brother Bob died in May. A tragic end, but a release, just the same. My half-sister passed suddenly in August. I didn’t even know she was ailing. My other brother, the last remaining Wilson besides me is in hospital for two months while he battles one of those superbugs – a drug resistant strain of staph. Last I heard, the MD is optimistic about the prognosis, and Jim is getting himself and other patients in trouble, racing one another in the halls.
And that is all I’m going to say about that.
For a brief update on my life up here in Northern Ontario, feel free to click on through the images. More details in the captions.
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