I woke after ten hours of sound sleep.
I fell asleep on the couch while watching VE-Day in Colour: The Last Days of WWII in Europe | Free Documentary History on YouTube. Some may think it strange that I watch WWII documentaries considering my own history as a wounded, disabled, veteran of a different conflict. I'm not obligated to explain my interest in such, nor am I obligated to explain why such content does not "trigger" upsetting memories of my own battlefield experiences. Along somewhat the same vein I do tend to frequently escape into dreams related to my current status compared to my experiences in Vietnam. There's a line in the movie Coming Home that set me off (when I watched it on Cinemax back in the day). Jon Voight's character is a Marine wounded in Vietnam that made him paraplegic. He answers a question from the character played by Jane Fonda about his dreams, and does he have nightmares. His response is that no, he doesn't have dreams about combat or Vietnam. He instead says he dreams of days before his injuries, and that in those dreams he can walk, and run. I lost the use of my left hand (a condition deemed permanent by a long history of examinations, therapists, and physicians). In the past ffity seven years I've worked dligently at not favoring that hand, or treating it like it doesn't fully function. I still have a strong grip, and the fingers still fully open. But it's only when I'm dreaming that I can still play the flute.
I called William and as expected he said he'll bow out of going to church tomorrow. It may be hard for younger people to understand, but we seniors, age seventy five and older, don't have a great tolerance for large gatherings. I will go and attend the single service at 1030hrs because it's Pemtecost and I've been absent from the last three years when the parish photo is taken. I feel I have an obligation this year as a member of the vestry to support the activites and worship opportunities whenever possible. I will most likely, however, bug out before the lunheon. There is a difference betweeen the structured environmemt of a worship service and the mayhem of a family oriented luncheon ( read energetic, loud kids, and their half deaf grandparents speaking in playground voices). The latter triggering a panic mode in yours truly.
For those so inclined, The Daily Office, Evening Prayer Eve of Pentecost
Bed time ... Good night at 1811hrs.
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