Hello everyone, everywhere,
This week I’ve still been trying to repair myself to get back to playing. I must have whacked myself a lot harder than I thought because I’m having some severe trouble moving around properly. Everything’s aching. It’s giving me headaches too, and it’s hard to think right.
Our weather has been unusually muggy, and it sure takes its toll because we usually have a very dry climate here. We’ve been getting more rain here than I’ve seen in a long time.
On another note, poor Michelle is in a lot of pain and I’m worried about her as I always do, but now it’s harder because she’s in Edmonton. I’ve got to leave it all up to Dean.
So even though we both agree that this is a beautiful story, neither of us is in our best shape tonight. But we’re still laughing. As long as we can do that, we’ll keep going. We will continue to get better because I’ve got to play, and Michelle has got to run. That’s the way we see it today. Oh yeah, Dean’s doing really well. And Grandma’s almost three-quarters of the way up that banister.
And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest.
I HEARD A VOICE
I need to play. I’m a drummer. But my body is hurt worse than I thought. I’d fallen, you see: my balance likes to dance without warning. The distraction of going down was no problem; it was banging my hip and knee on some buried stump that did it. Falling on my backside in the mud was an afterthought.
While I was sitting in the mud, it started to rain. I looked up into the rain for a moment. I was too sore and tired to get up. Then I bowed my head and just sat in the rain and the mud.
Out of the rain came a voice that I knew so well. “You gotta get up, bro. You’ve gotta get up and carry on. Your journey is not over yet.” Hearing my older brother calling to me–well, I guess you all know–I got up.
(NEVER EVER GET UP)