Yesterday was Pesach, or Passover, which is a holiday celebrated by my husband's family. We were twenty-fold for the seder and it was a comfort to be with family, to reconnect with people I don't see that often who are related to T. Poignantly, I also miss my own family, my children spread from one side of the continent to the other. I remind myself of my blessings, of which there are a ridiculous amount, but allow myself to grieve for the presence of those I love, those children who no longer are children, and more recently, their children, my grandchildren.
This afternoon, I was on hold or being re-directed, or re-stating my internet problems to India and then to Advanced Tech Support at Hughes Net. (Currently I am sitting in a neighbor's driveway who is closer to civilization in order to upload this photo.) Did I say for TWO HOURS with no results except, Sorry, Nothing we can do... ?
This is an inconvenience and as a grown-up, I remind myself that is very different from a PROBLEM. While I was waiting to be helped I read an account in The New Yorker of a man trapped in an elevator for 41 hours. Yes, FORTY ONE HOURS. That was a problem. He entered the elevator one person, and emerged as another. Four years hence, he has not recovered.
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