There isn't much.
I have a few choice words for the way this year is starting off, but I will leave them out of this post.
My dad has five sisters. They are all younger than Dad. They are a lively, fun bunch. I have always loved this group; their silver hair and graceful aging give me hope for my golden years. They rally around all of us when bad times come. And now, Dad's middle sister is the one in need of support. She suffered a stroke late last week and is struggling with speaking. She confuses words or doesn't speak at all. If you know my family from aunts down to cousins, speaking (and usually speaking rapidly) is what we do and who we are. We are never at a loss for words. Except now. She is. I am praying for a complete recovery--that she is as fortunate as I was.
Today, I am remembering her visiting me shortly after I returned from the Denver hospital after my stroke. I was at home but still in bed, and she came back to sit beside me and visit for just a little bit. She had to check and make sure I was OK. I was still pretty out of it and in no shape for company, but I remember her visit.
People have always said that I look like her. I guess now our similarities don't end there. I sure wish they did.
So...the chest cold, the toilet that had to be replaced, the ridiculous amount of lesson planning and grading, the purchase orders I need to write for the show and for forensic tournaments might be a pain, but my problems are small.
Aunt Anita's troubles make mine pale in comparison.
So far, 2017 has nowhere to go but up. Let's hope the turn around is quick.