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later that same day …

Half an hour after writing the post below, I had a call from friends and blog aficionados Cathy and Christopher. “Are you all right? How terrifying!” It’s a wonderful thing to share your tsuris (troubles) with the wide world. My son was incensed, wants to cover the balcony with spikes, and insisted that I call the police, who’ve just left – so young, these two, barely out of their teens, taking a report. “Why didn’t you call last night?” the pretty, slender young lady cop asked.

“To tell you the truth,” I replied, “not only was it 1 a.m. and the guy had vanished, but I was wearing a plastic bag on my head.” We had a laugh. I will make sure the motion sensor lights are working, and they had several other ideas for increased security. But my best weapon, I think, is my loud voice and shrill cries. My throat still hurts. My son had a suggestion. “If you’re ever in trouble, call out ‘FIRE!’,” he said. “People always respond when they hear that.”
I took the police to my bedroom, the scene of the non-crime, and on the way out, the young male cop stopped. “Your husband is a scientist, I see,” he said. And my heart took a hit. He was looking at a poster of a lecture of my father’s, didn’t notice the “1979” at the top. My father was 57 when the photo was taken, 3 years younger than I am now. No wonder the policeman thought this was my husband.
“No, that’s my father,” I said.
And now, writing about Dad being younger than I, thinking about break-ins and the day, so dark and wet and dreary – has there ever been a spring this long in coming? – I want to cry.
A glass of wine, instead.

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2 Responses to “later that same day …”

  1. Beth, Sounds like you're being hit from many different angles all at once. Sometimes it seems as if the Fates conspire against us, but I have decided they're not that smart. Coraggio.

  2. Beth says:

    Chris, well, sometimes the fates are smart and sometimes not, but all that matters, as you say, is courage. (At first, I thought you were quoting painter
    Caravaggio and I thought, my, he had a sense of humour. But it was you!)
    Thanks for your note,
    b.

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About Beth

I began keeping a journal at the age of nine. Nearly fifty years later, I started this online journal, sharing reflections, reviews, updates, and the occasional secret.

Some Blogs I Follow

Chris Walks
This blog evolves. It once was about travels. Now it’s a reason to be at the keyboard that I value.

Theresa Kishkan
Theresa Kishkan is a writer living on the Sechelt Peninsula on the west coast of Canada.

I walk on. With my feet, and in my mind as well.

Carrie Snyder
Wherever you’ve come from, wherever you’re going, consider this space a place for reflection and pause.

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