Warning:
Salty language ahead that some may find offensive. Feel free to come back another day.
Well, fuck.
If there was any other way to start this, I promise you, I would have. No matter how hard I tried to come up with something different, this was the only way to capture the here and nowness of life. I apologized to God for the salty language and She assured me She was fine with it. He reminded me that we have been commissioned to be salt to the world around us. As it says in The Message “Let me tell you why you are here. You’re here to be salt-seasoning that brings out the God-flavors of this earth. If you lose your saltiness, how will people taste godliness? You’ve lost your usefulness and will end up in the garbage. So, there you have it. We are all called to be salt in the world. To bring out the God-flavors, right here, right now in the midst of this messed up broken country that we all share. As hard as that may sound given the state of things, it’s why we are here. Hence the opening words of this post.
As some of you know, my geologist had open-heart surgery this summer, and everyone including the doctors thought that given his health, energy, strength, and Mr.-Fit-As-A-Fiddle-ishness, his would be a fast lane recovery. He’d defy even the best of numbers and be back up and running full steam ahead, sooner rather than later. It has been anything but. Lungs filling up with fluid, a night in the ER, procedures to drain a huge amount of fluid from said lungs, new medications, and energy that fluctuates from high and able to keep going all day long to how soon can I take another nap. It seems that just when we’ve taken another step forward, something new comes up. Hence, the opening words of this post.
Recently that something new was the need to have another procedure to drain the fluid that is re-accumulating, making breathing more difficult. Add to that another gnarly drug that will suppress his immune system just as cold-flu-RSV-and Covid season are upon us. If that procedure and these drugs take care of it, which there is good reason to think they will, that should be the end of it. But one never knows. If it doesn’t, there is the possibility that he has something called “trapped lung syndrome”, which is kinda like it sounds. The outside of the lungs develop a kind of rind like on a wheel of cheese, creating a smaller space in which the lungs have to do their work. Fixing that would mean more surgery. Hence, the opening words of this post.
All of this is happening in the context of so much more, and one of the gifts of this slow-lane-recovery time is the opportunity to see things with more perspective. From a vantage point that isn’t just about the him, or me, or the two of us, but about all of us. We continue to be overwhelmed by the medical care we are receiving, the responsiveness of our doctors, our access to care when and where we need it, and the insurance to make it possible for us to even make this medical journey in the first place. With major surgery, a week in the hospital, ER visits, multiple doctor visits, follow-up tests and procedures, and cardio-rehab, we have not received a single bill. Not one. While deeply grateful, we are also acutely aware that we are in a privileged position. It’s not ours by merit but by the privilege afforded us in a system which isn’t stacked against us, but most certainly is against others. What’s needed is the salt that will flavor our healthcare system with love and justice. And if building such a system isn’t salt, and a good use of votes and our tax dollars, I don’t know what is. Hence the opening words of this post.
On a different-but-similar note, the tiny co-op preschool where our grandson goes finds itself on the brink of closure. The preschool is sponsored and administered by a community college, and all parents share in the workload. The focus of the preschool is to both prepare little humans to learn, and to educate their parents so that they can help this next generation become lifetime learners, critical thinkers, respectful humans, creative innovators, and contributing members of society. This beloved little school is in jeopardy because of the loss of federal funding to community colleges across the country. Community colleges are a pipeline for success, making education more accessible, preparing students to make meaningful contributions in their chosen careers, and supporting people like the parents at this little school prepare the next generation of Americans to have what it takes to do what it takes to keep this country going. If that isn’t being salt, and a good use of our votes and our tax dollars, I don’t know what is. Hence, the opening words of this post.
On a different-but-not-similar note, there are the Seattle Mariners. Although they didn’t win out, we watched Game 5 along with about 5.3 million other viewers as the Mariners made a little bit of history, inching closer to their first ever run in the World Series. Millions of us watched as Geno Suárez hit his clutch grand slam, and Mariners fans everywhere went crazy. Watching the crowd sit together, scream together, chant together, cheer together, and yes, some mourn together, I’ll bet no one was thinking about who the person next to them or across the stadium from them voted for. About which political party they identify with. It was just a massive collection of fellow citizens, those on-their-way-to becoming citizens, and those hoping to find their way to being on-their-way-to becoming citizens, coming together for the love of the game. A game that is quintessentially American, and like America’s story has both a dark history in discrimination and racism, and one that has opened doors to diversity, equity, and inclusion. If coming together in the midst of our differences, around a game we all love isn’t salt, I don’t know what is.
I’m not sure where all this is meant to go, except to say that I simply needed to name it and share it. I wrote it mostly in my head while driving to and fro for doctor’s appointments, errands, and more doctor’s appointments. I am overwhelmed by the beauty of our little valley ablaze with fall colors even as it feels like the world is burning down before our very eyes. How is it possible to hold it together even as it feels like it is all falling apart? We do it by adding salt. It’s why we are here. To season the world with God’s flavoring whether we believe in God or not. Because another word for God is Love.
And if I won’t do that, and you won’t do that, and we won’t do that?
Well, fuck.
