I don’t know where you live, but here in the suburb of New York City that we call home, there are hundreds of gorgeous white blossom trees that come into bloom this time of year and cause as much misery as ground glass on Raisin Bran. My school, neighborhood and downtown are all surrounded by this lovely foliage and everyone within sneezing radius is sneezing.
I’ve noticed that people are very sensitive about being told you think they have allergies. They’re convinced they’ve contracted a cold and stand by that assertion no matter what. Something about the specter of suffering from allergies seems to imply weakness of the spirit as well as the immune system and nobody wants to hear it. You’d think you were telling them they had herpes instead of something seasonal. “ME? I don’t have allergies. (achoo!) I would know if I had allergies. This is just a cold. (snort-sniff-sniff) Trust me. I get colds like this about twice a year.”
Like maybe in the spring and fall? Wake up and smell the pollen. I used to be one of those defensive souls but now I take Alavert or Claritin every day of my life because I have not only breathed the dust mites, I have seen the light. Interestingly, I noticed that the pharmaceutical companies are on to the general public’s denial and have formulated their strategy. The box of Alavert I just purchased suddenly says Can Now Be Used To Treat Colds.
They’re very clever these drug empires, always flexing their tentacles to reach a myriad of sufferers. They tell us that aspirin relieves pain, inflammation and reduces fever. Take it every day to prevent heart attacks. Take one WHILE you’re having a heart attack and chase away Death. Who wouldn’t want to do that? Better buy the industrial-size bottle. But first consult your blood because if it’s shy about clotting, here comes that pesky Death again.
When I began this entry it wasn’t my intent to have Death make an appearance. It came in the back door, though, via an emotional phone call from Daughter. She just received word that a friend of hers from high school didn’t wake up this morning. In their teen days, I saw this young man several times and I recall the hardships he lived through during those years: an injury in high school from a traffic accident,and his father’s death after graduation. There was word that his life had been unraveling of late, and in spite of all he had to live for, he just stopped doing it.
It’s the Friday before Mother’s Day as I write this entry. Our plan is to meet for dinner on Sunday as we always do for this lovely holiday that I adore because I adore being a Mom. I will be joined by Husband, Son, Daughter and her out-of-town guest, and my own young friend from school who has become part of our tradition. And sometime either before or after dinner, Daughter and I will go to this lost boy’s wake and pay our respects to his mother on the worst possible day of her life.
Daughter’s Featured Foto is for all the Families
