Host and Guests

                                    

Fish and guests stink after three days. – Benjamin Franklin

 

I have been a most unhappy host with a most unwelcome guest for three days. It’s time for my virus to go. It felt like Mr. Covid was finally packing his bags last night and not a day too soon. Still showed some signs of preparing to leave this morning, but then I read his note on the Test Strip, a line at T and C which said it plainly— “I think I’ll hang around a bit more.”

 

Still, I went on with my plan to pretend he wasn’t there. For the first time in three days, sat zazen, took a shower and shaved, actually got dressed and later in the day, went out for a walk in the park. Even had a picnic lunch outside with my daughter introducing my wife and I to a man she’s been seeing for awhile. I stayed some 8-feet away the whole time with my mask on and it was a lovely visit, though not my choice for a first impression. (And yes, I like him!)

 

I believe I’ve been a patient host, but enough is enough. But I’m not convinced my guest Mr. Covid got the hint. I can feel his presence still. On the fourth full day, even as he must know that Benjamin Franklin wouldn’t approve. I can get through one more day without being in contact with others, but there are things on my calendar next week that I’d rather not miss, having already cancelled a dinner with friends, the piano play at the Jewish Home and a Memorial Service. 

 

Mr. Covid, are you listening? You’ve inhabited my body long enough. Time to go. Thank you for the visit— a good reminder to cherish every second of good health— but don’t come again for a long time, please. Or ever.