Love does Heal

The Leo Carrillo trail was exploding with all variations of greens, reds, yellows, whites, oranges and purples - as I said my hellos and walked up the trail, now packed hard and dry from many weeks without rain. Unseasonally warm weather and wild flower season has come early this year. I saw a ribbon snake, a baby rattler and at least thirty lizards scurrying across the dirt and clover: some were on top of each other, frozen in mating mode as I walked past. ‘Don’t worry about me you lizard lovers, I will not bother you…’

I, walked slow because I have been fighting off a nasty cold for the past ten days. The cold has actually been winning the fight because every time I felt a bit better, I charged up Leo to try and – sweat it out – or I paddled out at County Line to surf away my sickness. Yeah, I’m so tough, so tough that each immature ego driven move drove me back to bed. Ugh. I had the razors in the throat, the body aches, the fever morphing into the wet cement mucus head cold, eventually dropping into my chest where each time I coughed up toxic chunks, I felt like I was gonna faint and die. So. Much. Fun.

I caught the worse than Covid cold from DZ when I babysitted him a couple of weeks ago. He just had – the sniffles -his mom said as he climbed on me and sneezed on me and slapped his petri dish fingers across my face. But sniffles to him at 2 is possible urgent care for old Popso at 70. I have made it through the phlegm storm though and am hoping to be able to babysit again this week. I will be sure make DZ suffer for dosing me. I already have plans of offering him a few of his favorite fresh blackberries and shoving them into my own mouth just as he reaches out his cute little fat fingered hand. I also imagined putting on his favorite Toy Story 3 movie and just as he gets comfy on the couch with me I will shut off the movie and say, “No Woody and Buzz for you little dude. You are punished by Popso…”

That’s about as mean as my imagination can get. Well, I did murmur – That F-ing DZ -when I couldn’t surf the head high swell this past weekend because I was too weak. But I took it back immediately and promised myself I would buy him an extra box of blackberries and a pack of his favorite dried mangos when I see him next. I, do love him so much but -sad to say – I can’t go over there anymore when he’s got anything catching. There is just some very weird, nasty strains of sick going around these days and this old geezer doesn’t wanna go down for the count over a fucking cold, which brings to mind – even though I didn’t want it to enter my mind –

My dad died from bronchitis that he also caught from a two year old boy. He coughed so hard that it ruptured the wall around his aorta and he was rushed to the hospital. The two year old wasn’t his grandson though; it was the son of my dad’s thirty-year old prostitute girlfriend, who left her sick kid with him when she went out to – work –

Such fond, fond memories old dear old dad

When my son N was five we all played monopoly. N landed on Park Place and asked to buy it. My dad said - he couldn’t buy park Place because my dad had Boardwalk and wanted both. When N said he wanted Park place my dad called him, “A half a person and a cheater,” and stormed out of the room. He was 88 years old. Age does have nothing to do with maturity.

I will always love my dad because I am part of him and hating him always made everything worse – but Popso will never, never be mean to DZ, in sickness and health and in between. Love is an action. I work for my love and am blessed and grateful to do so. I’m gonna go sit in chair out on the deck in the sun now and bake the rest of that cold out of me - knowing that Love Does Heal -