The Point

The Point

I could hear Gramma’s voice with her, such a nice Polish boy !! declaration as he introduced himself. This stranger with his very thick accent and physical therapy regimens had been Home Health Care assigned to bring Husband’s strength back and if I were a bettin’ man, I’d wager our first impressions were equally off track. What I saw was an analytical, somewhat odd, strange sense of humor character and what he viewed as he wandered into our front room was a Chicago Bears this, Chicago Bears that, Chicago Bears here, there and everywhere atmosphere and um, I wonder how this will pan out.

A few hours later she walked in and with her Occupational Therapist skills and gadgets

she brought a raspy voice, an arm full of tattoos and a brash, take it or leave it attitude but this initial overview of one another was immediately tossed aside when she happily announced HEY !! I’M  A CHICAGO BEARS SEASON TICKET HOLDER TOOOOOOOO !!’

& just like that, friends for life

& btw, Gramma ?? you were absolutely right. That Nice Polish Boy really is a swell guy. He cares for his mama, has a great laugh and shares many a story of his proud heritage

So.

What’s my point ?

hmmm

To be honest, I cringe every time he wears it

& shame on me. It is Husband’s stamp of approval from his first go-round with a replaced heart valve and for someone who’s recently conquered a second removal  and replacement to his damaged ticker, I’d say he’s earned all rights to wear whatever he darn well pleases

but but but

from faraway or quickly glancing eyeballs it kinda, sorta looks like a political statement and although I refuse to stray into such opinionated waters, there are those among us who do and unless one looks to see exactly what this hat of Husband’s reads, one doesn’t know, one infers.

So.

What’s my point ?

hmmm

On Sunday’s ride home from a wonderful weekend, Husband and I viewed life from a place we have never, ever seen before

when a train conductor who saw our suitcase in tow, walker in hand, slow and steady, turtle walking ways made it his mission to help. As we settle in and thanked him for his beautiful kindness, I wondered how many souls with more troubles than ours have sat in this unique spot and just how did they maneuver their ins and outs ? Were people as patient with them as they had been with our hang on, just one second !! fumbles ?

and what about ME ??  How do I rank in this considerate, mindful and polite column ??

or the first impressions sector ?

or the inferring department ?

hmmm.

So.

What’s my point ?

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