Absolutely Stunned

Today, official numbers are:
   USA:  374,329 sick; 
               12,064 dead
   World: 1,441,589 sick, 
                   82,933 dead

I know I shouldn’t, but I watch the White House press briefing each evening. I tell myself that I do it to keep up to date on Covid-19, to hear Doctor Anthony Fauci and Doctor Deborah Bitx give us accurate information, but I don’t. The truth is that I am fascinated by what off the cuff remark President Trump will make.

When commenting on the removal of the captain of nuclear aircraft carrier USS Theodore Roosevelt after he went public in his cry for help with the virus on the ship, Trump said perhaps the captain shouldn’t have taken the ship to Vietnam where crew members likely were infected. As if the captain was just out for a pleasure cruise: “Where should we sail today? What about Vietnam? We haven’t been there lately.”

It doesn’t work that way. That port of call had been planned by the big brass of the Navy months ago.

The remark that just about put me over the edge was when Dr Brix was answering a question about the models which show hundreds of thousands will die of Covid in the US and our different states. Trump said, “The professionals did the models and I was never involved in a model. At least this kind of model.”

After Frank Bruni wrote about this in his New York Times article, “Has Anyone Found Trump’s Soul?”, I had to comment:

Unlike Trump, who claims he is number 1 on Facebook which he isn’t, I admit my comment wasn't the most recommended out of the 3939 comments, but it was a Readers’ Pick.

Good Lives, Lived Well

We started our week with a funeral and ended it with a celebration of life. Each was for a woman who was an artist: one a professional singer, the other an amateur painter. We did not know either well, they were dear friends of friends. Monday evening we attended a Catholic mass for Maria, and even though the service and all but one eulogy were in Spanish, we were able to understand the priest and speakers' messages. Grief is a universal language. Hearing her songs sung in that sanctuary was a lovely last concert for a beautiful woman.

Saturday afternoon we attended a celebration of life for a quiet women from our congregation. Her house was full of family, friends and colleagues reminiscing about how much they enjoyed her company. It was also full of her watercolors and other artworks which I had heard of but not seen. I especially liked a larger-than-life closeup of an aloe, greenish grays and blues.

In our covenant group, Joyce was reserved, listening more than talking. Coincidentally our monthly meeting was Saturday morning, and the chalice lighting honored the friends who can be silent with us. She was comfortable being one of those friends.

I am almost exactly the middle age between when my mother (age 54, pancreatic cancer) and my father (age 88, old age) died. This week we celebrated two women who created beauty in their lives and shared it with others. What will be my legacy?