Today I saw the first metal detector of the season. A very large grandfather and a very shy teenager were looking for treasure. “Find anything?” I ask.
“Oh no. I got this (points to the metal detector) two years ago and then I got my cancer, so this is the first time I’ve been out. My granddaughter has the day off (St. Patrick’s Day?) so we thought we’d come out and give it a try.”
“How are you doing with the cancer?” I ask. (I’m amazed at how quickly I step into my old hospice job way of talking.)
“I’ve been free for six months. I’ve learned to enjoy each day,” and on they went.
The many reasons I come to the cottage seem to overlap and take turns on center stage. Today this conversation kept me in the Now as it broke my solitude.
“Oh no. I got this (points to the metal detector) two years ago and then I got my cancer, so this is the first time I’ve been out. My granddaughter has the day off (St. Patrick’s Day?) so we thought we’d come out and give it a try.”
“How are you doing with the cancer?” I ask. (I’m amazed at how quickly I step into my old hospice job way of talking.)
“I’ve been free for six months. I’ve learned to enjoy each day,” and on they went.
The many reasons I come to the cottage seem to overlap and take turns on center stage. Today this conversation kept me in the Now as it broke my solitude.