I woke up 15 minutes before my alarm was set to wake me. My body continually did that, regardless of what time I set the alarm to go off. It seemed like a bit of an injustice, to be honest. I lay there in my bed a few extra minutes, messing around on my phone mindlessly before I began the day.
I heard voices from the other room and wondered who was up. I snuck in there to check and it was Oliver and his friend. Oliver, greatly influenced by his early riser pal, had begun waking up earlier than he had before. They sat at the computer together giggling about Roblox.
I readied myself for the day, a process that actually included putting on makeup because I had zoom calls on tap. What a world we were living in now, where I would “put my face on” for a zoom call! The makeup was important because when I did not wear it someone inevitably asked if I was sick or commented that I must be tired. Correcting them was an exercise in futility. “Actually, I just didn’t wear any makeup” I would say. As if they were embarrassed to be caught making such a statement they always felt compelled to defend themselves. They would reply some version of “No, no that’s not it. You just seem down a little” as if I don’t know the condition of my own body and what is different about it today than the last time they saw my face.
Finally settling at my desk, I had a cup of coffee and began the all-consuming process of answering email, phone calls, and all the dubious Zooms. Doing the whole shebang at home during the pandemic included constant peppering of questions and stories from the boys as they wandered into the bedroom to tell me everything from their opinions on current politics to the dream they had last night, whether I wanted to know any of those things or not.
Twice throughout the day I had unplanned conversations with good friends. It was a good reminder that I should make that happen more often. There was no reason to waste our time here when we could be sharing it together.
Thomas offered to help cook dinner this evening and I immediately requested crepes. One of the truest statements you’ll ever read is that Thomas makes fantastic gluten-free crepes. They taste better than any regular ones I’ve had in a restaurant.
We stood together at the stove, him making enough crepes to feed a million people (okay, just 8), while I fried bacon. When it was all said and done, in typical Goodrich style, we all one by one thanked him for dinner. It’s comical when it starts because every single one of us has to say it. The one who slaved over dinner has to offer, one by one, a sincere “you’re welcome” as if they aren’t repeating it seven times in a row. Thomas sighed and tried to avoid getting caught up in it, but to no avail. When I heard him mutter “You’re welcome!” in an exasperated tone I chuckled to myself.
The day was glorious in the mundane, especially for a July 28. It was on a July 28 six years ago that I was diagnosed with cancer.
It was also on this day a year later when I would hear the words that have held true, one year at a time so far, “no evidence of disease”.
Thus, I’m glad today for the soliloquies I get to hear one by one from the boys. I’m glad for the friends. I’m glad for dinner and for work, even when it’s very difficult.
I’m grateful, for July 28. Even in the year 2020.
2 thoughts on “July 28”
Seriously…need crepes! Last time I found gluten free crepes was on a work trip in New York…
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If you use the gluten free brand of flour called Cup4cup, and just replace standard flour with that in equal measure, it’s good.