Think about the last time you were so sick you couldn't pick yourself up off the bathroom floor, and you have a good idea of what May 30 through June 1 was like for me. I'm not going to write much, but as many of you have found out, my inbox crashed at some point in-between barfing, so if anyone has anything to say, re-send it and I'll read it now that my retinas are full of vitreous humor.
Being that sick is like a time machine back to being a kid. I had flashes of the Iowa in the early 70s, even my room at the Chi Psi Lodge in 1989 when I was recovering from dysentery. My bed faced the sunset then too, and I remember the day going by in these little wisps of light: morning, noon, sunset, darkness, misery.
My mom came into my room on Tuesday and put her hands on my lower back to soothe the muscles that had gone into spasm from hours of retching, and the relief was instant and pure, the perfect gift from parent to child. How wonderful it could be, 38 years from now in the year 2043, to do the same for Lucy.Posted by Ian Williams at June 1, 2005 11:52 PM