Susan LaffertyDesert town with main street revitalized.
Colorful shops and cafes, side by side. In aged buildings freshly painted with desert hues. Sand and sage and purple.
We wander in the warren of shops connected through inner doors. And find antiques, curiosities, junk.
Collecting dust.
Two years ago on this day, I sit beside my husband’s bed in the ICU. Two stents newly inserted into one of his arteries. Blood now flowing freely through his heart. In a place formerly 100-percent blocked.
Only hours before, we walk. Drive. Talk. Laugh. Following everyday routines. Ordinary schedules.
Not knowing danger lurks.
Oblivious to unseen, unnoticed blockage wreaking havoc. Beneath the surface. Under skin and flesh and vessel.
Life plans don’t always take shape and move in directions we imagined.
So many things upend our neatly-laid strategies and schedules.
Visa delay or rejection. Medical emergencies. Evacuations and political uncertainties.
Children struggling in new cultures and places. Needing extra help with education.
Sudden changes of co-workers, coming and going.
It feels like setback. Unwanted adjustments.
