The occasional, often ill-considered thoughts of a Roman Catholic permanent deacon who is ever grateful to God for his existence. Despite the strangeness we encounter in this life, all the suffering we witness and endure, being is good, so good I am sometimes unable to contain my joy. Deo gratias!


Although I am an ordained deacon of the Catholic Church, the opinions expressed in this blog are my personal opinions. In offering these personal opinions I am not acting as a representative of the Church or any Church organization.

Monday, December 19, 2022

Sick and Tired

I’ve been sick, with something that’s made me very tired. I’m really not sure what hammered me about a week ago, but it sure made an impression. It feels like the flu but I won’t hazard a diagnosis except to say that I’ve been out of commission ever since it appeared. The symptoms were pretty standard: aches and pains, upper respiratory congestion and cough, chills, weakness, loss of appetite, and all the rest. To my knowledge I never had a fever, so I guess that’s a good thing. But the best thing has been the loving care provided by Diane who kept me hydrated, medicated, fed, warm and cozy, and let me get the rest I needed. She has been wonderful indeed. Anyway, thanks to Diane, I’m now on the mend, and should be back to normal within a day or two. In the meantime I’ll continue to remain cloistered here at home and just goof off until I feel well enough to rejoin polite society. 

Sadly, today I’ll have to miss the Parish Staff Christmas Luncheon, always an enjoyable event, except perhaps for the irritating Yankee Swap gift exchange. Okay, okay…a lot of folks apparently enjoy it, but it just seems to turn gift-giving into an unnecessarily complicated process that ensures the right gifts too often get to the wrong people. Just seems to me a “secret Santa” approach would be a lot simpler, leave everyone happier, and be more attuned to Christian values. But what do I know? Obviously, not much, because I think I’m alone in my, until now, unvoiced criticism. I’d already bought a gift for the luncheon, one that met the $25 limit. I think I’ll ask Diane to give it to some deserving soul whom she believes will enjoy it,

Diane’s undergoing another of her frequent physical therapy sessions, so while she’s out I’ll ask a compliant Alexa to play a little Vivaldi or Bach while I take a brief restorative nap right here in my easy chair. But first I must extricate my right foot from under Maddie who decided to settle down on top of it. This is something new with Maddie who’s normally not much of a cuddler. Perhaps it’s a symptom of her advancing age — Maddie turns 15 this month — and reflects a long-repressed desire to establish a closer relationship with the pack. Then again, maybe she just decided my slippered foot was a handy pillow. 

In the meantime, get your heart and soul ready for Jesus. He arrives soon. 

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